


King

by AnnDerry



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Ada Thorne - Freeform, Angst and Romance, Bad things for good reasons, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Sex, Dominant Tommy Shelby, Drama, Drama & Romance, Esme Shelby - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, Gangster Romance, Gangsters, Grace does not exist, Grey Stallion, Gypsy Ponies, He's a bad-ass gangster but a good man, Heroine is an adult, Heroine is not a pushover, High Stakes, Horses, Inspired By Peaky Blinders, Loss of Virginity, Marriage Proposal, May does not exist, Peaky Blinders - Freeform, Peaky Blinders References, Polly Shelby - Freeform, Protective Tommy Shelby, Revenge, The Garrison Pub (Peaky Blinders), Tommy can't forget her, Tommy falling in love, arthur shelby - Freeform, gypsy wedding, happy ever after, john shelby - Freeform, racehorses, set in series 2, sweet romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 38,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnDerry/pseuds/AnnDerry
Summary: Runaway bride, Lady Tessa Elliott makes an impulsive deal with the devil after disobeying Tommy Shelby's orders and hiding who she really is from him. Living under his protection and taking care of his prize racehorses, Tessa is ready to sacrifice her virtue in return for his mercy.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 278





	1. Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE 05/07/2020: Well, I have just finished series five. Love, love, love this show! Cannot wait for series six. Come on Tommy! 
> 
> UPDATE 05/05/2020: Hey everyone, hope you are all keeping safe and well. I've given myself a little lockdown project and written several initial chapters to make this into a full story. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy. Reviews welcome. 
> 
> Hello, this is my first attempt at a Peaky Blinders fiction. I'm only at the start of series four now on Netflix and am totally hooked so forgive any inconsistencies with the later seasons. Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome.

I was certain my father and my loathed fiancé would not dream of finding me in Birmingham of all places. My maid was from this part of the world and she often talked of home and how you could lose yourself in a big industrial city. I knew no one from the North, so the chance of being discovered were slim, as long as I was careful. So, I wore my plainest coat and dress with lace up boots and travelled light, having no need for the fine ballgowns and tiaras that had been part of my life as a debutant in London. 

On arriving at Snow Hill Station, after travelling in in second class so as not to draw attention, I wandered aimlessly into the depths of the city. I had fled my home in the early hours before the servants were up lighting fires. I knew not where I was headed except that I wanted to avoid any grand hotels or more affluent areas just in case I was recognised. You could never be too careful in the society I was brought up in. The aristocracy were spreading their wings and taking advantage of a workforce newly returned from the war. Money was to be made and getting your hands dirty in the north was becoming more acceptable. That’s how I found myself in Small Heath, surrounded by factories and that’s when I saw the horse. 

He was grey with a long flowing mane which it was tossing with impatience as it stamped and pawed at the black coals which lay like a glistening black carpet on the road. Either side of him were open workhouses where the clang of metal on metal followed flashes of burning furnace. The air was thick from the heat and smoke. He was magnificent and misplaced in this humble setting, I approached him, cooing softly so not to cause him to startle. He was already working himself up into a fizz. His highly polished leather tack screamed money. Who on earth could own such a horse in such a low place? 

The grey was tethered to a post outside a pub, The Garrison Tavern. From the rowdy noise emerging from the double swing doors, an evening of hell-raising lay ahead. The street was busy, people were coming and going at the end of a long working day. Workmen with faces blackened with soot on their way for a hard-earned pint. Children, dressed in little more than rags were playing amongst the muck and mess, staying out until their mothers came calling to bring them home for tea. They stared as they passed me, whispering and shaking their heads. I imagined that they too were surprised at the sight of the horse, but I was soon to find out that I was the cause of the gossip. 

You’re a beauty, settle down,’ I said as I stroked the horse’s nose. He wore a double bridle with a Pelham bit. Looking at the power in his arched neck, I could tell immediately he was a stallion without even looking in the obvious place for confirmation. He would need a strong and empathetic rider to keep him under control. I toyed with the idea of springing lightly up into his back and galloping away. There was nothing for me to lose and the romantic notion of escaping my troubles on horseback felt wild and so unlike my ordered life back in Hertfordshire. Discreetly, I felt for the knot that tethered him to the post, looking around to see if anyone had noticed but it was a complicated one and not easy to untie. 

I fumbled for a few moments until a coil of tobacco smoke wreathed into view and the sound of a throat being cleared startled me. I whipped round guiltily. A man stood watching intently. His eyes were the bluest of blue and topped by cheekbones that could have been carved by a great artist. His age weas hard to say, he was surely not yet thirty but had the appearance of a man who had seen things too young. He was dressed sharply in an immaculate tweed, three-piece-suit, finished with a peaked cap. 

‘Are you trying to steal my horse?’ he said, tilting his head and inhaling a hit of smoke which curled seductively out of his mouth. His voice was calm, deep and assured in complete contrast from the question, the sort of which you would expect to be shouted instead of stated conversationally. It was unnerving. 

The stallion unhelpfully decided to give me a huge shove with his nose at that point, so I was catapulted three feet forward. We were now uncomfortably close and I needed to give him an answer. 

A group of men had started to convene around us. They added to the intimidating atmosphere. The pub doors swung open as a couple more joined the fray. I didn’t like where this was heading. 

‘What’s going on with the lady, Tommy?’ jeered a loud voice in a strong Birmingham accent. The man was taller than the handsome devil in front of me and had then look of someone who liked his drink. 

‘Go back inside, Arthur,’ said Tommy. ‘Take the rest of the men with you.’ I was struck how every man obeyed immediately without question and in a few moments, the road had cleared and we were practically alone. Even the metal work furnaces seemed to have stilled at his request. 

After this brief interlude, his attention was solely back on me. 

‘I’d think carefully about what you are going to say,’ he said. The menace in his voice was not hard to miss but he still kept his composure. 

He was clearly respected but I had a growing feeling of unease that he was feared too. And yet, his eyes expressed kindness. He was giving me a chance to tell the truth. I was alone in an unfamiliar city, with not even a place to stay and no idea of how I was to support myself while running away from my past. Maybe he would help me. So, I told him the truth. 

‘I thought about stealing him, yes.’ I admitted. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.’

He flicked his cigarette away and nodded. 

‘An honest thief,’ he said. ‘Admirable. You’re from London, Miss?’

I tried to tone down my upper cut-glass accent when I responded. No need to tell him exactly where I was from. London was near enough to Hertfordshire. I nodded and told him my name. ‘Miss Tessa Elliott.’

He reached out his hand which I took. The touch of skin on skin jolted me somehow. His grip was firm, business-like even but still I caught my breath slightly as we touched. 

“Thomas Shelby,’ he said. “This is my new horse. Just picked him up today. You like horses then?’

‘Yes, I’ve been riding since I was young. What’s his name?’ 

‘Doesn’t have a name yet. Nearly didn’t get chance to name him if you had stolen him away, now eh?’

I hung my head. ‘Are you going to call the police?’ I asked. That would be the end of my short-lived adventure. If they checked my records and found that I was really Lady Elliot of Hertford, I’d be packed back home to hell. The alarm that I was missing would be raised by now.  
He seemed to find this amusing. ‘No, I’ll not call the police, but you need to tell me why you were desperate enough to stoop such a crime.’ He tutted theatrically and shook his head. ‘From me of all people.’

‘I don’t know who you are,’ I said truthfully.

‘You will, Miss Elliot,’ he told me. He looked me up and down. ‘You don’t look like a whore. Clothes are too good.’

My mouth dropped open. I’d not heard a man talk like that before and I think he comprehended the shock on my face. 

‘I am certainly not a …not that.’

‘A whore,’ he repeated for me. He was enjoying my discomfort. ‘What are you then and why are you in Birmingham? Have you no friends here?’ 

To hell with it. I wasn’t sure what his intentions were. I’d admitted to nearly carrying out a crime against him, so my fate was in his gift. He was right. It was a reckless thing to do but my situation was dire. My escape from an arranged marriage and breaking my father’s heart was too much to bear. I bit back a lump rising in my throat, determined not to break in front of this man. 

Maybe he sensed my emotion because his voice changed from playful to thoughtful. 

‘Have you a place to stay?’ he asked.

‘Not as yet, no,’ I admitted.

‘Money?’ 

‘A little.’ I said. I also had a few jewels taken from the family safe that were creatively hidden in my undergarments but not much cash to speak of. 

‘Sounds like you need help, Miss Elliott,’ he stated and lit another cigarette. 

I straightened up. ‘I’m sure I will be fine.’ 

‘Hmm,’ he said. I could tell that he saw through my false confidence. ‘It’s getting late, soon the whole of Small Heath will be full of drunks, robbers and very bad men. You be safe under my protection and I’ll find you somewhere to stay. Then we can talk. Do you accept? It’s your choice or you can take your chance and walk away freely if you wish.’ 

Declining his offer would be foolish. I knew that. He would have allowed me to go on my way but I owed him an explanation. I wanted to trust him, so I nodded and mumbled my appreciation. He untied the stallion. 

‘Tricky knot,’ I said.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips. ‘Old Gypsy knot. Stops your horse from being stolen.’

My cheeks heated. I admired the way he effortlessly mounted the huge horse. His seat was natural and light. The stallion was raring to go as it waited for his master’s signal. He reached his arm down towards me. ‘Take my hand. Up you get.’

I sprang up lightly behind him, assisted by his strong pull. 

‘Hold on tight,’ he said. ‘Arms round my waist.’ 

The closest I’d been to a man before was dancing at the many balls that I needed to attend at the request of my father. This position felt more intimate than a waltz. My heart raced as I breathed in his masculine scent and felt his lean musculature as I encircled my arms around him as he had directed. The back of his head was shorn under his cap, so unlike the longer styles of male haircut that I was accustomed to. It suited him. 

We rode through the darkening streets. Virtually every person tipped their hat as we passed. 

It was as if I was being escorted by a King.


	2. Safe Passage

In ten minutes, we reached a building with a sign reading ‘Mrs Abbott’s Boarding House’. He unconventionally swung his leg over the stallion’s neck, jumped down and held his arms out for me to dismount. I stumbled on the uneven ground when landing and he steadied me by catching hold of my waist. For a second stared at each other, then he broke away. A group of children were playing outside. 

Tommy called out to the eldest one, grubby boy of about ten. ‘Look after the horse, will you?’ He handed him a coin and the reins. 

The boy grinned with pride, fit to burst. ‘Yes, sir thank you.’

He rapped sharply on the heavy, wooden door. A lady who answered, who I presumed to be Mrs Abbott seemed alarmed to see the two of standing on the doorstep. 

‘Mister Shelby, sir. How can I help?’ 

‘Mrs Abbott,’ he replied in greeting and entered the house as she stepped back. He bid me to follow him into a communal living and dining room. From the aroma of baked bread and savoury stew, the dinner we about to be served for the guests. A few people were seated around but with one glance at Mr Thomas Shelby, they all found reason to quietly depart the room. 

Tommy seemed to find this completely normal and lit yet another cigarette. 

‘This lady here needs a room, Mrs Abbott. For a week at least,’ he said. ‘Give her your best one.’

Mrs Abbott looked from me to him and fiddled with her apron nervously. ‘The best room is taken, sir and we are fully booked. I could give her a bed in my quarters...’ she said tailing off. 

Tommy fixed her with a look that made me fear what he would do next. 

‘Move them out, Mrs Abbott. Give her a good dinner. Treat her well. I’ll be back tomorrow.’ He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of notes. 

‘Yes, Mister Shelby. Of course.’ 

‘Your son, Mrs Abbott. How is he?’ He asked as he handed her an upfront payment. 

‘He’s recovering from the...er accident,’ she said, glancing at me. I felt that this was conversation was being talked in code so as not to reveal any private information to me. 

‘Four young uns to provide for too, I recall?’

‘Yes, sir. Them that is outside now looking after your horse. It’s tough to feed all of em and a baby on the way while he is laid up,’ she said. 

He peeled off a few more notes which the lady gratefully took. ‘Give him this and tell him to see me when he is on his feet again.’

‘Bless you, Mr Shelby,’ she said. He nodded at her and she left the room taking the hint that she was dismissed. 

‘Until tomorrow then,’ he said to me. ‘It’s probably best not to venture outside this house without me.’ 

This was worded as a suggestion, but it felt more like an order or even a challenge. 

‘Thank you, I understand.’

We were silent for a moment.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘’Well then, I’ve business to attend.’ 

‘Goodnight.’

I watched him depart from the window. He pushed the stallion into a flashy trot. The children ran alongside in excitement until he turned the corner of the street.

‘Hello again, Miss,’ said Mrs Abbott who had obviously waited till the coast was clear. ‘I thought you may like some privacy at dinner and take it in my personal parlour?’ 

‘Thank you. That would be kind,’ I replied. The day had been extremely taxing and I appreciated the offer. She brought me some tea while I waited for dinner. 

‘There you are,’ she smiled. ‘Your room is being prepared. It will be ready as soon as you have eaten at your leisure.’

‘Please, Mrs Abbott, there is no need. I am more than happy to stay with you as you suggested.’ 

‘Oh, Miss. we mustn’t disobey Mr Shelby’s orders. I dare not. If he were to find out, the consequences could be of a terrible nature.’ 

‘How do you mean?’ I said I intrigued, for my own sake as well as hers. 

‘I do not know how you came to be acquainted with Mr Shelby, and I ask no questions. Lord knows the trouble that would follow.’ 

I was glad of this as I didn’t want to talk about myself, but I had an insatiable desire to know more of him. ‘Is he a good man, Mrs Abbott?’

She blew out her cheeks before answering. ‘He is a war hero. Got two medals for gallantry.’ 

That made sense. He was clearly a leader of men. ‘What does he do for a living?’ 

‘Now you’re really asking me that? Well all I can say is that the Shelby family control this part of Birmingham. Tommy and his two brothers, Arthur who is older and John who is younger. They also have a younger brother Finn who is nought but a child and they were all brought up my their Aunt Polly after their mother died. They are bookmakers and do lots of... other things, some good, like the money he gave me for my son. But there is always a price to pay if you understand my meaning?’ 

‘But off-course bookmaking is illegal,’ I said almost to myself. I knew that because we had racehorses at home. Father was a member of the Jockey Club. My family was steeped in equestrianism. 

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I say no more. Well, I’ll fetch your dinner, Miss.’

Some debutant friends of mine had recently been going giddy over gangsters, who by all accounts dabbled in bookmaking dens, racketeering and protection. They were becoming quite the fashion at London society parties. Perhaps, Mr Thomas Shelby was one of their kind but that would be madness. He’d won medals for his country and a gangster would have shot me for what I was about to do. No, there must be some other explanation.


	3. Trust

I didn’t sleep much. Only a fool could do so after such a day and the noise of a big city at night was so different to the serenity of my country estate in Hertfordshire. The house guests were up early. I could smell breakfast and hear the scrape of chairs being pulled about. My room overlooked the street and children were already out playing. 

Normally my maid would wake me with a breakfast tray but the trappings of wealth had never been my priority. Mother would scold me in my youth for my tomboyish ways. I was always at the stables or climbing trees with the village children. Horses were my passion and father indulged me as his only child. As I grew into adulthood, the spectre of making a good marriage to secure the estate became more important to my parents, especially as I had no particular inclination to find a husband. At twenty-two, society would expect me to be wedded. 

It was past eleven when Mr Thomas Shelby called for me. Mrs Abbott had again served me in her parlour and bade me to use the room as my own after breakfast. When he was near you could tell that he was someone to be reckoned with even though he was not an imposing figure, being of medium height and build. However, he had a presence and a watchfulness about him that immediately attracted respect. 

‘Are you well,’ he asked. ‘Was your room to your liking.’ 

‘Quite well, thank you,’ I replied. 

I would not have said anything less, even if it wasn’t. Mrs Abbott had been kind to me.

‘I thought you might like to meet the rest of my horses?’ This was exciting and images of an immaculate stable yard with rosy cheeked grooms entered my head. 

’I’d love to,’ I said. 

‘We can talk there,’ he said. My stomach flipped a little. I’d forgotten that I had to explain why I was in Birmingham. I decided to be partly honest. That way it was easier to keep up with the story. At least that’s what I’d told myself. I was not deceitful by nature nor was I a thief, but my mind had been tormented these past few weeks which had driven me to do desperate things. 

Four wheels instead of four legs were our mode of transportation today. Parked on the street was a brand-new motor car. It was a sunny September morning; the end of summer was reluctant to depart. The warm heat magnified the city aromas, some not pleasantly so it was good to be moving at speed as the breeze wafted the scents away. I glanced surreptitiously at him from time to time. As I watched him drive, I caught a glimpse of a flash of silver in the brim of his hat. Perhaps it was part of the fashion in the north. 

The place we arrived at was definitely not like the scene I had imagined. We were in a boat yard of some kind, next to a dark canal. Industrial factories loomed around and blocked the sun. Tommy greeted two men who nodded at me but were not introduced. 

‘Where are the horses?’ I asked. 

‘Ah, you’ll see,’ he replied and led me around a corner to a ramshackle barn which had been sectioned off into stalls. Despite its poor surroundings I noticed that once inside, the straw was piled thick and newly laid. Sweet smelling hay bales were abundant and bags of feed to last all winter were stacked neatly. 

The grey stallion and three other horses whickered as they spotted their master. A stout coloured pony of about 15 hands, watched us with ears pricked. He was a fine example of a Gypsy cob. I had spotted a wagon in the boatyard and guessed that this pony pulled it. Tommy fussed and petted each horse talking to them softly. I said hello to the stallion who was showing off by throwing his head up and down while letting off the occasional squeal. 

‘The cob is called Romany,’ he told me. ‘You’ve met the stallion as yet unnamed.’ We ventured further into the barn toward the two remaining horses. ‘Now these two here are my racehorses, Moynihan Boy and Arrathorne Lad.’ 

‘Racehorses?’ I exclaimed. The two thoroughbreds were sleek and fit as a butchers’ dogs though it was surprising to see them in this place.

He nodded. ‘Yes, racehorses.’

‘But, where do you train them?’ I asked. ‘There are no gallops in the city.’ 

‘I know people.’ 

‘Like who?’ I asked. ‘I felt sure I would know them given my family’s connection to the Jockey Club.

‘Now that would be a secret,’ he replied. ‘Which reminds me. Let’s have a chat about why a girl like you wanted to steal a horse on her first day in a big city?’

‘Well...’ I said. 

‘You brought no luggage. That’s what you do when you need to run away. What are you running from, Tessa?’ Today, he wore a navy suit which brought out the blueness of his eyes which were currently assessing my every move.

I stroked Arrathorne Lad as I answered, comforted by the feel of his silken neck beneath my fingers. 

‘My family have betrothed me to man I do not... love. I refused his hand and my only escape is to find a new life for myself.’ I breathed again and waited for his response. 

‘Do they have good reason to ask you to marry him?’ he asked. This was not the sympathetic reaction I had expected. My blood heated.

‘Their reasons are of no importance to me,’ I said. 

‘Money?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. The farm will be entailed to a cousin if I do not marry this man.’

‘The farm, eh?’ he said. 

I felt certain that he did not believe me. I hoped I was not blushing. ‘Yes, the farm.’ I insisted while becoming very interested in petting Arrathrone Lad instead of meeting Tommy Shelby’s intense gaze. 

‘They will come looking for you then’ he stated. 

‘Perhaps, but they won’t find me. I’ll keep going.’ My temper was raised and it made me want to challenge him. If anything, to put him off my deception. “What is it that you do for a living?’

‘I rarely answer questions, is what I do,’ he said. 

I raised my chin. ‘Yet, I must answer your questions, sir.’

‘You can walk out of here right now and we’ll never set eyes on each other again,’ he said calmly. ‘Or we can come to an arrangement.’

‘Forgive me but I am already avoiding an arrangement,’ I said hotly. ‘That is why I am here now,’ 

He briefly patted Moynihan Boy and walked away from me. ‘Suit yourself. You are paid up at Mrs Abbott’s for a week. Feel free to stay until then.’ 

‘Wait,’ I called and caught up with him outside the stallion’s stall. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

The grey nudged at his pockets for a treat.

‘I’ll show you what I do,’ he said. ‘Some of what I do, at least.’

‘What are you going to call him?’ I asked. 

He lit a cigarette, flicking the match into a bucket of water and taking a deep inhale of smoke.

‘The horse will be called ‘Tessa’s Secret,’ he said with a suggestion of a wink.


	4. Gangster

It was busy, noisy and full of men. The air was thick with tobacco smoke and curses. The constant chink of coins passing from hand to table rang out as I stood fascinated watching the scene before me. This was an illegal gambling den alright. 

Tommy was whisked away to discuss the latest race odds almost as soon as we entered the place. ‘Esme,’ he shouted at a pretty girl with long curly hair and a sullen expression. ‘Look after this one.’ He pointed at me. 

Esme did not look enthusiastic at this task and eyed me suspiciously. ‘What are you to Tommy? she said accusingly. 

To be honest, I didn’t really know. ‘I’m...he’s helping me.’ I said. 

‘With what?’ she asked. 

‘Finding a job.’ I shrugged.

‘Tommy doesn’t help people for nothing, you know. He’ll have his reasons.’ She folded her arms. 

‘We’ve just been to the boatyard to see the horses,’ I told her, trying to make conversation. 

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘You know about horses?’

‘Yes, I was born riding,’ I said.

This seemed to thaw relations slightly. She uncrossed her arms. ’Me too.’

‘Romany is a handsome cob, don’t you think?’ I said. 

‘Yes, sometimes me and John, Tommy’s younger brother, take him out for drives. I’m married to John. The Shelbys are half Gypsy. I’m full.’ 

At this point, there seemed to be a bit of a commotion at the chalkboard. A man was raising his voice and Tommy was pointing in his face. It sounded like the one from outside the Garrison the previous night. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked. 

‘Who knows,’ she shrugged. That’s Arthur. The older brother. Thinks he’s still in charge of the Peaky Blinders but he’s not. Tommy is. Arthur’s always shouting. Tommy will sort him, he always does.’ 

‘The Peaky Blinders?’ I said. 

She looked at me as if I were mad but maybe she did not realise I was new to the city. ‘That’s the name of the gang. The family. The Peaky Blinders,’ she explained as if it were obvious. 

‘What does it mean? The name,’ I asked. 

‘Look at their hats,’ she said. ‘John, come over here.’

Her husband, a young man with a fat cigar clenched between his teeth appeared. 

‘Give us your hat a minute, will you?’ said Esme before whipping it off his head. She showed me the peak. 

I stared at it curiously. My mouth dropped open. ‘That’s a razor blade,’ I said slowly. ‘Why would anyone have a razor blade in their hat?’ My mind shot back to the journey to the boatyard earlier. Tommy had one too. My pulse rate picked up a notch as I glanced at Esme and John who were watching me amused. 

‘It’s to cut people with, to slash their eyes’ said Esme, matter of factly, taking the hat back and popping it lovingly on her husband’s head. ‘In case you haven’t got a gun on you.’ 

I think I must have gone pale because the room started to spin. My eyes searched for Tommy. He was walking stealthily toward me and caught me before I fainted. ‘You’re a gangster,’ I whispered as he cradled me in his strong arms. 

‘Let’s get you out of here,’ was all he said in reply. 

Exhausted, at least I slept like a log that night. Tommy had ordered Mrs Abbott to deliver supper in my room, which I understood was normally against the Boarding House rules. Now I knew exactly why no one disobeyed Tommy Shelby. 

He had not been angry for causing a scene in his bookmakers or laughed at me, as Esme and John had. When he took his leave, he was respectful and concerned for my wellbeing. His parting words were, ‘I am who I am, Tessa. Take it or leave it.’ 

The thing is, I wanted to know more. I wanted to spend more time in Tommy Shelby’s exciting world. I wanted to feel alive. To do that, I knew I would have to toughen up. 

Tommy took me back to the Peaky Blinders gambling den the following day before it opened and gave me a tour of the offices. The whole family were there including Aunt Polly, who looked at me as if I was something she had trodden in. Esme told me not to worry because she was apparently like that with everyone. John and Arthur ribbed me gently for yesterday’s scene and I felt more comfortable. I wondered if they were under orders from Tommy to be nice. 

‘Esme is going to take you into town to buy some new clothes,’ he said. ‘You brought nothing so get anything you need. Get a pretty dress. Riding clothes too. You’ll need those.’ He peeled off a stack of notes and pushed them into my hand. 

‘How am I going to repay you?’ I asked. I thought of the jewels stored in my room. I could give him one of those but that would expose my secret. I now wished I’d been totally honest with him. I feared him finding out that I had lied about who I was. 

He laughed and raised his eyebrows before regaining his composure. If he was going to say something flippant, he stopped himself. ‘This is business,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll show you what you need to do.’


	5. Home

The village of Avecote was a thirty-minute drive out of the centre of Birmingham. I enjoyed the journey and with a newly bought scarf and sunglasses, I felt like a film star as we roared through beautiful country lanes. We travelled in yet another car, a shiny Bugatti which was the height of luxury. 

Tommy had not told me where we were going, and I was getting used to this. Esme told me that was the Peaky Blinders way and not to take it personally. She was more cordial toward me and we had an enjoyable time at the shops. Not least since Tommy had made John give her some money for a new dress. So, I was now in her good books.

The village had a tiny church, a shop, a pub and a green. Small houses were dotted about and the day had that late summer atmosphere of haymaking and harvest. A few villagers who went about their daily business, stopped to gaze at the huge car as we weaved through the winding lanes. We stopped at an idyllic cottage on the outskirts of the village. It was set back from the lane and had a parking for a car outside. A white picket fence encircled a garden which was bedecked with trailing roses, wisteria, lupins and stocks. The sweet scent of the blooms was a gorgeous treat in comparison to the smog of the city. I followed Tommy round the back of the place, where there was an outbuilding for tack and feed, with four well maintained stables. Two large paddocks led in in a gentle incline to a full stream at the border of the property. Beyond was open countryside for as far as the eye could see. 

‘Let’s have a look inside,’ he said. The cottage itself was clean and simply furnished. A hallway, reception room and spacious kitchen were airy and bright. The kitchen was well equipped and a large table, scrubbed clean as a pin was central to the room. Upstairs a master bedroom overlooked the stables and a smaller guest room was situated at the front. 

‘Is this your house, Mr Shelby?’ I asked as we explored this upper floor. I skirted around the bed to admire the view of the paddocks, acutely aware of the man standing behind me. The now familiar noise of a match being struck prompted me to turn to face him. 

He took a pull and blew out an unhurried curl of smoke. ‘Actually, it’s yours,’ he said. ‘If you want it?’ 

‘If I want it?’ I said. I was furiously trying to comprehend what he meant. ‘I don’t understand.’ 

He joined me at the window. ‘My horses need to be wintered out somewhere. I don’t like them stuck in the Boatyard with no grazing. The two racehorses need to be kept ticking over till the Flat Racing Season starts again in the Spring.’

‘So, you are going to bring them to live here?’ I asked. 

He inclined his head. ‘Yes, that’s the plan. You need a new start. A new identity. I can give you that and protection. You’ll be paid a weekly wage. I’ll arrange for hay, straw and feed to be delivered regularly. You can treat the horses as your own.’ 

‘That’s incredibly kind of you, sir, but surely this is too much? I don’t deserve such kindness from you.’ My limited knowledge on gangsters was rapidly increasing and I was once again struck by the contradiction in his actions. So far, I had seen him help more people than harm. 

‘It’s business. I get something, you get something. That’s how it works. Plus, I don’t think your quite cut out for life in a gambling den.’ He smiled and his beauty almost took my breath away. 

I blushed. ‘I’m sorry, it was all quite overwhelming.’ 

‘No need.’ he said. ‘You’ll get used to us. Come, we need to get back. I have meetings in London for the next few days.’

I froze. ‘London?’ I said. I hoped that he would not come across my secret there. It did not occur to me that he would have interests in other cities. ‘Do you have business there?’ I blurted out.

He scowled and turned away without answering. I kicked myself for prying because now he was angry with me. A gorgeous gangster who has just given me a lifeline and I mess it up. Great. 

‘Mr Shelby,’ I called after him as he took the stairs to the ground floor. ‘I sorry for asking. Sometimes I speak before I think.’

‘Alright Tessa,’ he said. ‘There are things you don’t need to know. Just accept that okay.’ I liked when he said my name in his deep, calm voice. His Birmingham dialect was not as strong as Arthur and John, but it had a sonorous tone to it.

We were in the hallway now. ‘Mr Shelby?’ I said. 

He sighed and I could tell he was holding his tolerance in check. ‘Yes, Tessa.’

‘When I am living here. Will you visit?’ The thought of not seeing him for months on end was painful. 

He looked at me intently. ‘Would you like me to visit?’ 

I nodded. ‘Yes, yes I would.’

‘Then I will visit.’


	6. Christmas Presents

Tommy returned from London at the weekend and we boxed the horses up to Avecote. He kept his stallion in Small Heath but I had Romany and the two racehorses in my charge. Everything was as he promised and I settled into my new life, thankful for the patronage of Mister Thomas Shelby. 

I enjoyed the calm routine of the village but what kept my fire burning were the brief times when I would see him. He would visit almost every week, sometimes twice but never on a set day or time. The best times would be when we would ride out together. Those hacks in the autumn sunshine I counted as the happiest times of my life. Feeling the power of well-bred horseflesh, galloping underneath me with Mister Thomas Shelby racing by my side was most exhilarating. 

Sometimes he brought men with him and those visits entailed whisky sessions in the kitchen once the horses had been viewed. Arthur and John were particularly entertaining and they usually left rolling drunk. Along with the regular forage deliveries that had promised, were other supplies that were not meant for me, boxes of boxes of goods which were locked in the cellar or in the outhouse. I didn’t ask what they contained. 

Other times, he would arrive and tell me to take one of the horses out for a ride. This was code for keep out of the way and I did as he bid. Once, he arrived with more men than usual and as I rode out of sight, I heard gunshots and saw birds flying up from near the cottage. When I returned, he took his leave of me curtly. I forced myself to forgot these types of incidents 

By the third week of December my happy existence was lessened by his absence. I had not seen Mister Thomas Shelby for eighteen days. No word of him was brought by the men who delivered firewood and forage for the horses. They shook their heads and shrugged when I asked after his whereabouts. I tried not to worry but given his profession, I could not quell the rising dread that pervaded my thoughts as each day passed. 

December too added to challenges I faced. The wind was bitter, water troughs froze and the cold chilled me and the horses to the bone. I sewed blankets to warm the thoroughbreds at night. My mother would pale at me undertaking such a menial task, but I was glad that all those hours of embroidery practice actually came in useful. Romany had grown a thick winter coat, so he had no need of such comforts. He seemed to snort with derision at the sight of Lad and Boy in their blankets. 

The villagers had cautiously welcomed me. They were unsure of a single woman who had frequent male visitors, so I made an effort in the community. Admiring babies, contributing to coffee mornings and supporting the Parish Council. It was natural to me given my position in Hertfordshire, so here in Avecote, I involved myself in village life as I would have done at home just on a smaller scale. The Sunday before Christmas, I crunched my way home through the frost after attending the nativity service. I lit a candle for Mister Shelby and prayed for his safety. 

It was dark when I arrived home, but a surge of excitement shot through me when I saw a huge black car parked outside the cottage. A welcoming flicker of firelight emanated from the windows. I ran up the path and quickly pushed through the doorway and kept going until I reached the parlour, not even stopping to remove my coat and hat. 

‘Oh, Mister Shelby,’ I cried as it was indeed himself who was standing by the fire with a glass in hand. ‘I’ve been so worried about you?’

He sipped his drink, one arm up on the fireplace. ‘Alright, Tessa,’ he said. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. You on the other hand, ten minutes more and I’d have razed the whole village to the ground looking for you.’

‘You would?’ I said. ‘I mean...I’ve been at church.’

‘Because you’re such a good girl,’ he laughed. ‘Drink?’ 

‘Yes please,’ in said. ‘Whisky Irish.’ I felt giddy with relief and it was making me bold. He smiled again as he handed me my drink.

His hair had been freshly cut, shorn close at the back and sides. It was longer on the crown with glossy black locks sweeping his forehead. He was a breath-taking sight. 

‘It’s Christmas next week,’ he said. ‘I’ve brought you a present.’

In my eagerness to see him, I had not noticed two baskets by the fire which contained a Lurcher puppy in one and two kittens in the other. All three were fast asleep by the warmth of the fire. I crouched down with delight. 

‘How wonderful. Are they truly for me?’ I asked as I took the puppy in my arms and rested my cold cheeks against his soft fur in wonder. 

‘You need a guard dog living out here on your own. The kittens are from Esme, to keep the mice down in the stables.’

‘Thank you,’ I breathed. I stood up still hugging the puppy to my chest. We stared at each other intently. 

‘You’ve still got your hat and coat on,’ he said breaking the moment. 

‘I didn’t realise,’ I said blushing. I placed the puppy back in his basket and made myself presentable before taking a seat with my drink. 

‘Are you hungry?’ I asked.

‘Yes, a bit,’ he replied. 

‘Then I’ll prepare something.’ He nodded, poured himself another whiskey and topped up my glass. As he moved across the room, I saw that he had a deep cut on his left temple. As he poured more amber liquid into my glass, I saw that his knuckles were grazed. The injuries did not look fresh, maybe a couple of days old. 

‘You’re hurt,’ I exclaimed. 

‘It’s nothing, Tessa. Merely a scratch,’ he assured me. ‘I’ve been dealing with something for a while now. Let’s just say, it’s dealt with.’ 

‘I know that I should not ask questions so forgive me, but is that why you have not been here?’ I said. 

‘You ask questions that others would fear,’ he said.

‘It is not in my nature to fear a man who has shown me nothing but compassion,’ I answered truthfully. 

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply before answering. ‘There will be times when I will not be able to come here. My life is unpredictable but I will keep you safe. As long as I breathe.’

I gulped away a grateful tear with a burning hit of whiskey. There was so much more I wanted to say to him, but I knew that I must not. I settled instead on persuading him to let me tend to his wounds. That’s how we found ourselves after supper, at the kitchen table with a bowl of boiling water and some of his Gypsy tincture taken from the horse medical kit. 

Perhaps the intimate action of washing his wounds was contradictory but I reasoned that if I could not speak the truth of how I felt then I could show him. Just as you communicate with a horse with expressions and physical actions, so could I, even if he did not acknowledge it, then at least I would know that I was falling for him. 

He didn’t flinch, even when I applied the tincture which was sure to sting like hell. As I carefully swept it across his skin, I hardly dared to breathe. The action was so intimate. My face inches from his so I could check that I had cleaned out the wound sufficiently. 

‘There, all done. It’s getting late,’ I said, trying to break the tension. ‘Will you...travel back to Birmingham in the morning?’ As soon as the words had left my mouth, I realised with shock at how he might interpret them. My pulse, which had been steadily increasing all evening was now at an all-time high. 

His beautiful blue eyes flicked to mine. They were glittering with amusement. ‘Such a simple question, Tessa, and yet so many possible complications.’

‘I only meant...it’s your house so you are entitled to stay here as you wish. The guest room has not been used yet.’ Hell, I was just digging myself in deeper. I busied myself clearing away the bowl and dressings putting space between us. 

He rose from the table and joined me at the sink. ‘It would be difficult for a man such as me to be contained by even two locked bedroom doors, Tessa. I think it’s best I leave you and the animals to get acquainted.’


	7. New Year's Eve

On New Years Eve, I was readying myself for festivities in the village. I had been invited for dinner with the Parish Council, followed by a knees-up at the Swan Tavern. I wore a red dress that I had chosen with Esme and I was looking forward to my evening with more anticipation of pleasure than I had any of the debutant balls of London. My only negative was that I would not be accompanied by Mister Thomas Shelby. He had never seen me in evening dress as I was usually in jodhpurs covered with mud when he visited. He had not seen my dark hair carefully coiffured into waves or my lips rouged with red Chanel lipstick. 

By four pm I was almost ready. I slipped my riding boots over my stockinged feet, hitched up my dress and trod carefully through the mud for a final check on the horses before I departed for dinner. Romany and Boy, whinnied their greeting to me but Lad was standing with his face to the wall, grunting and kicking at his belly. Shit – colic. Instantly, I swung into action. Lad was sweating but not yet lying down. If he did that, there was no way I would be able to haul him back up. I led him around his stall, keeping him moving in order to stimulate his gut into passing whatever was stuck. After an hour, there was no improvement. I gave him a draft of linseed oil and went back inside the cottage to call Mr Shelby to let him know his prize racehorse was in grave danger. 

The line to the Peaky Blinders rang and rang. No matter how many times I called, there was no answer. I needed help. I could not risk involving anyone from the village. Mr Shelby had told me that he did not want outsiders on his property. The odd visit from the vicar was only just acceptable. I was on my own. 

Unless, I could get to Birmingham. 

Then Mr Shelby could drive us back to help Lad. I thought of the little pony gig that Romany pulled. It was nearly six o’clock. At a fast pace, I reckoned the Gypsy pony and I could get to Small Health by eight. I’d have to take care though as it was nightfall already, but the horse’s need was great. The way Mr Shelby drove, we could be back just before nine. I convinced myself that this was the right thing to do.

Romany was a wilful pony with great character and presence. He would often do things to make me laugh. Kicking over wheelbarrows full of manure when I was not looking was a specialty. Escaping from his stall by fiddling the bolt with his teeth so he could raid the carrot store. Tonight, he stood steady as a rock as I harnessed him to the gig. It was as if he knew that this was a life or death mission and we set off at a purposeful trot. Thankfully, last week’s snow and ice had been replaced with rain so the roads were not as treacherous as they could have been. Tonight, was clear and bright with nearly a full moon to light our way. 

The city was busy with folk enjoying the end of the year. I headed for Small Heath and pulled Romany to a stop outside the Peaky Blinders residence. ‘Well done, good boy,’ I said, hugging the pony gratefully. I banged on the door for an age until Esme appeared. 

‘Tessa,’ she exclaimed with a huge grin on her face. She pulled me through the door with a hug. ‘What the hell are you doing here? Tommy will do his nut. He said he needed to keep you out of the city.’ 

I barely comprehended what she was saying. ‘Lad has colic. I rang but no one answered. The horse needs a vet, I think,’ I said hurriedly.

‘It’s New Year’s Eve. I was getting ready. The boys are out collecting. The pubs are full and the landlords have to hand over double their usual takings or else. Tommy says it’s like picking fruit from low hanging branches. It’s a good night to do business.’ 

‘But I must find Tommy, Esme please. The horse...’ 

‘I’ll fix that, hang on,’ she said. ‘Tommy doesn’t hold with vets. We Gypsies see to our own horses. I’ll send Finn to the Boatyard with Romany then he can take a car and drive Curly up to the cottage to fix the horse. Curly is Tommy’s horseman. They say he’s more like a horse than a man. He was very sad to see the horses leave. That’s why Tommy left the stallion here.’

‘I’m not sure Esme. Can we look for Tommy while they are heading up to the cottage?’ I asked. 

‘I wouldn’t, Tessa. Not when they’re working. You wouldn’t like to see it. It can get nasty, if you know what I mean. We can wait for them in the Garrison. I’m meeting John at ten. He said they would be done by then.’

‘Maybe I should go back to the cottage with Curly and Finn,’ I said. 

‘No, come on. It will be fun. I never get out these days but I’ve got a cousin looking after the babies for once. Plus, you can fill me in on what you and Tommy get up to in the countryside.’ Esme gave me a knowing wink. ‘You can trust me not to tell.’

I laughed. ‘Honestly, Esme. There’s nothing between us. It’s purely an arrangement. Thank you for the kittens by the way. I love them.’ 

‘You’re welcome. It’s good to have another girl in the business. Ada’s living in London now. She’s their sister. Polly’s so bossy and no fun. You look gorgeous by the way. That’s the dress we bought isn’t it? Suits you.’ 

I nodded. Though it was nice to have a friend, I wasn’t going to lay all my secrets bare to Esme. After all, I still hid my real identity from Tommy and went cold every time I thought of him discovering that I had lied to him. 

Torn between duty and pleasure. I’m afraid the pull of wanting Tommy Shelby to see me in a party dress was victorious. I reasoned that if we met at ten then we could be back in Avecote at eleven and by then, Curly and Finn would have tended to the horse. 

‘Alright. You win,’ I said. ‘Please tell Finn that Lad has already had a draft of linseed oil. That should have got him moving by now.’

Esme clapped her hands in delight. ‘Don’t worry. Curly is magic with horses. Lad will be right as rain by the morning. I promise.’ 

While Esme completed her toilette, I tidied my own appearance given I was a little windswept from the journey. Once she had kissed her children goodnight, we set off arm in arm for the Garrison Tavern.


	8. Fear

This was no debutant ball and the hedonism that I saw was frankly a little bit alarming. Though it was exciting too. I was fascinated by the range of people. Esme said that there were a lot of non-locals in tonight because it was New Year’s Eve and that would account for the numbers. The pub was busy and very rowdy already. Shouts, singing and carousing abound. Men and women were getting steadily drunker and more outrageous by the glass. I sipped my gin and lime cordial (because apparently, tonic water is unheard of in these parts) and stood next to Esme while she enjoyed herself to the full. It must be hard for someone so young to have two children already and she at least three years younger than myself. I was on my way to becoming an old maid in comparison. 

I checked the time several times, getting more anxious as time wore on. It was eleven fifteen already and no sign of the Peaky Blinders arriving. I should have gone back to Avecote instead of coming here. In fact, what was I even thinking? Poor Lad, he must have thought I’d abandoned him and what if he didn’t make it? The thought made by blood freeze. I’d been so selfish and while lost in my morbid thoughts, I had not noticed that Esme had stepped over to the other side of the pub to talk to some acquaintances, leaving me on my own at end of the bar. A sea of people lay before me and the pub entrance. 

I tried to weave my way through to Esme, but my path was blocked by three lumps of leeringly drunk maleness. I wasn’t sure who could hear their disgusting lecherous words coming out of their foul mouths. 

‘Let me pass,’ I said. 

‘Now, now, darling,’ said the ugliest one. ‘We’ve come ‘ere tonight coz the wimmen are meant to be easy pickins in this part of Birmingham.’

‘You really ought to learn how to speak English before you actually attempt to speak,’ I told him. 

‘Very la de dah,’ sneered another. 

‘You gonna fucking take that, Bert,’ said one of the other three. ‘I say, we get her out of here now and take her down the alley. All three of us. She looks a dirty whore. Posh ones always are.’ 

At this point, I slapped him and then all I knew was that all hell broke loose. Pushing his way through the crowd, his face contorted with fury was Tommy Shelby. 

‘Fucking what did you say to her?’ he shouted. 

I leapt back and watched in absolute horror as he swept his hat off his head and slashed it across my aggressor’s face. The man’s hands flew up to protect himself, but it was too late, he was cut and rolling on the floor in agony in seconds. Arthur and John were already attacking the other two men with the ferocity of wild animals, but it was Tommy who was the most vicious. He was out for blood and that was spilling all over the Garrison Tavern’s floor. 

‘This is my fucking pub,’ he shouted as he kicked the man repeatedly in the head. ‘You fucking mess with our women. You fucking die. By order of the Peaky Blinders.’ 

I had never seen anything like it. I was numb with shock. Many people had fled as soon as the fight kicked off. Esme ran to me and dragged me out of the way. 

Tommy was not yet done. ‘I want these bastards out of my pub,’ he said to Arthur and John while giving one of them a final kick. ‘Now.’

He turned to me. ‘You alright,’ he said, his eyes scanning me for injuries. Blood was dripping off his knuckles. He voice was laced with adrenaline. 

I nodded and only just about managed to breathe out a ‘Yes.’ 

‘Harry,’ he called to the landlord. ‘Put the music back on and pour champagne for everyone. It’s New Year’s Eve for fuck’s sake.’ 

Tommy lit a cigarette and took deep lungfuls while staring hard at me. ‘Esme, do one,’ he ordered. Esme gave me a sympathetic look and scooted away. 

Tommy pointed at me with the two fingers that held his smoke. ‘Now that I know you are not hurt. You and me are going to sit in my private room over there and you are going to tell me what the fuck you are doing in fucking Birmingham.’


	9. Temptation

Now I understood why Tommy Shelby was feared. Those fifteen minutes of absolute mayhem was something that would replay in my mind for a long time to come. Now I knew the power he wielded over all those who obeyed him. Now I knew the fate of those who dared to stand in his way. 

He’d taken a bottle of Irish whiskey from behind the bar and necked a huge shot before pouring us both one each. I sipped mine gratefully, glad of its amber warmth giving me courage to explain myself to this man. 

He was still furious. ‘So you left my racehorse to cope with colic on his own, drove my pony through the fucking dark then came out with Esme to party?’ 

‘That’s not how it was,’ I said trying to explain. ‘I tried to telephone, there was no answer. I was worried that if he went down, I would not be able to get him back on his feet.’ 

‘You could have got help from the village,’ he snapped, while lighting another cigarette. 

‘I thought of that, but you said that you did not want strangers involved in your business.’

The door of the snug opened and Arthur popped his head round. 

‘I’m not fucking done yet, Arthur,’ said Tommy while still looking at me. 

‘Alright, Tommy. Just to say that they have been taken care of. Okay.’ 

‘Good,’ said Tommy. ‘Now fuck off.’

I could hardly comprehend the savagery of his conduct and I was feeling the full force of it. 

‘Are those men… dead?’ I asked. 

‘Yes, Tessa,’ he said. ‘That’s three rapists off my streets. That’s probably the only fucking good thing that’s come out of tonight. You have saved the dignity of countless women. Well fucking done.’ 

My shoulder’s slumped. ‘I just wanted to see you.’

A muscle flickered in his cheek and he rubbed a hand over his face. His reply was gentler this time, but his voice still had an edge to it. ‘Men like me, Tessa. They are not for ladies like you.’ 

Did he mean what to call me a lady in the sense that I was a member of the British aristocracy or was I being super sensitive? I was not sure and I certainly wasn’t going to ask him to clarify. My heart crushed and I knew not how to respond.

He stood up abruptly and held out his hand. ‘Come on,’ he ordered. ‘I’m sick of pubs tonight. We’ll drive Romany back to Avecote in the morning. Hopefully, you’ll still have three horses to look after not two.’ 

His grip on my hand was fierce as he led me from the pub. People stared but dropped their eyes quickly if they met Tommy’s. I would be the talk of the town tomorrow. 

‘It’s nearly midnight,’ I said as we strode along in the darkness. ‘Did you not want to see the New Year in?’

‘It’s just another fucking day to earn more money, Tessa,’ he said. ‘Simple.’

‘You don’t seem like a man who wants a simple life, Mr Shelby?’ I said.

‘You’re very perceptive, Tessa.’ 

I realised that we had arrived at the Shelby residence. 

‘This is your home,’ I said. ‘Am I not to stay with Mrs Abbott?’ I did not think that he would want me near him tonight.

‘I’m sure you just expect me to conjure up a room in Boarding House for you at nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve.’ His temper had not yet abated. 

‘I thought Tommy Shelby always gets want he wants,’ I said hotly. 

He unlocked the front door and held it open for me. ‘What I want, is to know exactly where you are until I drive you back to Avecote. The only way I can do that is take you to my bedroom.’ 

That sentence quietened my tongue and he knew it. 

So that’s where we went. 

His room was much smaller than I imagined. Just a single bed, wardrobe and a table and chair by the window. The bed was soft and although the linen was coarse, it smelt clean and fresh on. 

He gestured for me to take a seat on the bed while he did the same by the chair. He poured us both a drink and lit a cigarette. The match briefly illuminating his handsome features. 

Two minutes of tension broke by the sound of church bells and people cheering in the dawn of a new year. The devastating war was becoming a distant memory and optimism was growing. 

Tommy held up his glass. I raised mine too. ‘Happy New Year, Tessa.’ 

‘And to you,’ I said. ‘Yet, you don’t look happy, Mr Shelby.’ 

He didn’t answer but opened a drawer, pulled out a nightshirt and tossed it on the bed next to me. ‘I’ll leave you to change.’ He stood in the doorway for a moment. ‘That’s a very pretty dress by the way.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.’

All of his actions tonight were contradictory. The times I had dreamt of being in Tommy Shelby’s bed were not at all like how I imagined it to be. Revellers on their way home passed under the window and the front door banged several times with people coming in and out. To lie alone in his bed, surrounded by his things, his scent and caressed by his nightshirt and not the man himself was torture. There were little personal belongings in the room and with no fire lit, it was cold. 

I drifted in and out of sleep. When the city finally settled down, so did I until I was woken by a noise in the bedroom. In the shadows, I could see Tommy asleep on the chair, with his feet up on the table. He was shirtless and clad only in undershorts. I was fascinated by the sight of his pale skin which was illuminated by the moonlight. I’d not seen paintings as beautiful. He was shifting position agitatedly and murmuring. His dream was painful, I could tell. I hated to see him in such torment, so I rose quietly from his bed to wake him gently. 

‘Mr Shelby,’ I whispered. I placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder and repeated my salutation. 

At my touch his eyes opened but it was like it was not him behind them. His hand flew to my neck and in one swift movement I was pinned to the bed underneath him. 

‘Tommy!’ I cried. 

In that second, he woke from his nightmare. Abject horror was in his expression as he removed his grip from my throat.

‘Forgive me, Tessa,’ he said. ‘Forgive me.’ His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he returned to normality.

I was shaking and totally aware of his lean, powerful body blanketing mine. ‘What is it? What is troubling you?’ I asked. 

‘The war,’ he said simply. ‘Those tunnels. They haunt me at night, Tessa. I hear the shovels as if they are about to break through that wall over there. Every single night.’ 

I reached up to stroke his jaw as I would to calm a wild horse. He leant into my touch, closing his eyes and allowing me to comfort him. I didn’t really know what I was doing but my instinct was to soothe this man. 

‘It’s okay,’ I said gently. His eyes slowly opened and his gaze lingered on my face and then he comprehended the position we were in. 

‘Tessa,’ he whispered. ‘This is wrong. Something tells me that you have not lain with a man before. Have you?’ He pushed upwards and rose off me. 

‘I have not lain with a man, that is true. You are the first man I have encountered in such ways.’ The loss of him left my senses bereft. He was already kneeling at the foot of the bed, ready to take the chair again for the rest of the night. ‘Tommy, please don’t go back to that place in your mind tonight. Lie here with me and have peace.’

‘Peace?’ he exclaimed, running a hand through his black hair. ‘That will only make me endure a different kind of torture.’ 

‘You have just behaved like a gentleman. I am sure you can supress the gangster in you for a few more hours.’ How I dared to speak to him thus, I barely knew except that just had to experience the closeness of his body some more and it made be brave. 

A look of amusement mixed with surprise flashed briefly across his face. He settled down next to me and we talked about the hated war with the terrible things he had seen and loyal friends he had lost. I finally drifted off to sleep aided by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as my head lay on his chest. 

He was gone when I awoke. Perhaps it was a dream. I stretched luxuriously then listened for any sign of life in the house. I could tell by the sun that it was still fairly early and I guessed that the Shelby family would rise late after a big night out. I heard the clip clop of hooves and looked out of the window to see Tommy driving Romany up the street. I rushed to wash and dress and tiptoed down the stairs into the breakfast parlour. 

Tommy had parked Romany and was pouring tea for us ‘Morning,’ he said. ‘Thought you might like some tea.’ 

‘I would thank you,’ I said, grinning and sitting down. It was amusing to see the hard as nails, chain smoking, whiskey drinking gangster being so polite.

Before we set off, he gave me his overcoat to wrap around my shoulders as the wind was keen. The journey back to Avecote was bracing. It was a perfect New Year’s Day, crisp and clear. 

‘Did you roam as a child?’ I asked.

He clicked Romany on. ‘You’re taking about the Gypsy life, I presume,’ he answered. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘For a while. It’s in my blood to keep certain traditions going. Horses, dogs, remedies, deals. You like the sound of a roaming life?’

‘It’s very romantic,’ I said dreamily. ‘Just two people making their way in the world with no boundaries.’

‘Ha, you’d not say that after looking after four kids in a wagon and a drunk husband,’ he quipped. ‘Well, here we are.’ 

We trundled into the village and I remembered that we did not know if Lad was still alive but on entering the stable yard, I was overjoyed to see two fine thoroughbreds contentedly grazing in the paddock. I ran to Lad and hugged him, not caring that my shoes were ruined in the mud. ‘Sorry,’ I whispered into his ear. 

‘Alright, Curly. Alright, Finn,’ said Tommy. ‘The horse is recovered then?’  
‘Oh, yes Tommy,’ said Curly. ‘The girl did good with the linseed draft. By the time we got here, he had passed a huge lump and then we walked him out and he is right as rain now you see.’


	10. No Mercy

King

I took my time washing Arrathorne Lad’s legs, allowing him to graze from the bank as he stood knee-deep in the stream. The ice-cold water would help reduce any swelling from the race at Kempton earlier that day. The ground had been firm and I suspected that was why he had lost by a short head. The beautiful bay horse preferred a little cut in the ground. I had mentioned it to Mister Shelby when he called in last week and announced that the horse would be running and ordered me to step up his galloping. He’d given me that blue-eyed stare which made me catch my breath and he said not a word in response. Instead he’d lit a cigarette and turned away from me. I knew better than to argue with him. 

“Never mind boy,’ I said as I fussed over the gelding. ‘You’ll win next time and show Mr Shelby how much of a champion you really are.’ 

Thorne was my pet name for him and he was a pleasure to handle. He stood docile as a cob as I strapped his coat with a fat wisp of twisted straw until it gleamed like a newly fallen conker. 

I led him out of the stream and left him to graze as I attended to the other horses in my charge, mixing up bowls of feed and filling up mangers with sweet-smelling hay. No expense was spared for the Shelby racehorses. I settled Thorne into his stall and swept the yard clean before I stopped for a tea break in the pretty little cottage that was attached to the yard. I was lucky to live in such an idyllic place. 

The sound of a car roaring along the main road jolted me out of my thoughts. It was rare for a car to pass so late in the afternoon so I guessed who it would be. It was travelling fast from the sound of it and I hurried round to the front of the cottage just in time to see Tommy Shelby’s Bugatti speeding into view, throwing up gravel as it slid to a stop. Tommy’s face was like thunder as he slammed the car door shut and strode past me with barely a glance. I hurried after him. 

‘Is there something you need, Mr Shelby?’ I called from behind. No answer. Hell. I didn’t know what was coming but I knew deep down that it would not be good. My heart raced and my stomach lurched with fear. 

‘Mr Shelby,’ I said as I caught up with his purposeful stride and fell into step. Still no reply. Then we reached Arrathorne Lad’s stall. 

Tommy reached into his immaculate tweed suit and pulled part of a sackcloth out of a pocket. He threw it at me. ‘Pull the horse out of his stall and put this over his eyes.’ I fumbled the catch and had to stupidly pick the cloth off the floor. While I did, the next implement of horror he produced was a gun.

‘Do it now, Tessa.’ It was an order.

‘Oh dear God no. Please no, Mr Shelby. It’s not his fault he lost. The ground was too hard. I heard he ran well.’

He fixed me with such a look of venom that I took a step back. 

‘You heard? Or did you see with your own eyes?’ he snapped.

‘I...’ said but the words dried up as he raised his eyebrows. Damn, he must have found out that I hid in the wagon to and from the racecourse. Something that he had expressly forbidden. That I’d persuaded his younger brother to conceal me so I could see all my hard work come to fruition. 

‘I don’t pay you to disobey me, Tessa. The Peaky Blinders have eyes and ears everywhere. There will be consequences. I’ve dealt with John already. Don’t make me even angrier.’ He was absolutely unwavering in his declaration, which was given in his customary calm manner that made it all the more frightening. 

I squirmed under his intense scrutiny. Poor John, I hoped that Tommy was not too hard on him. The sight of the gun made me feel sick. I had no choice. Silent tears ran down my face as I did as Tommy Shelby asked. Thorne whickered softly as I entered his stall and slipped a halter over his noble head. As I led him towards his fate I quailed as Tommy cocked his gun while I somewhat unsteadily placed the rough piece of material over Thorne’s eyes. He was such a sweetheart that he didn’t mind and nuzzled me blindly in the ribs searching for a treat. 

‘Stand aside,’ Tommy ordered, raising his arm straight towards the horse. The gun inches from his forelock.

I couldn’t bear this. It wasn’t fair. 

‘Mister Shelby please,’ I said once again trying to appeal to his better nature. The one that I had seen first-hand. Giving to the poor, paying his way and protecting the vulnerable. Doing the right thing. 

He glanced at me and there was slight exasperation in his normally controlled countenance. I knew I was playing with fire and he could just as easily turn that gun on me but this was a matter of life and death. 

‘He’s costing us money, Tessa. I won’t keep a horse that’s past his use.’

I wracked my thoughts to delay the inevitable.

‘I’ll buy him off you. Please.’

‘It would take you a lifetime and more to raise the money that I’ve lost today. Step aside.’

I could not bear the horror of what was about to happen so with a deep breath, I moved in front of Thorne, directly into the path of the gangster’s gun. 

‘Tommy,’ I said, for only the second time I’d used his Christian name. ‘He’s my friend. I’m so fond of him. Please have mercy.’ My voice was low and I knew I’d hit a nerve because in that moment he lowered his gun and stealthily backed me up against the stable wall. 

I trembled as he caged me in as I stared pleadingly into his blue eyes. He moved in close but did not touch me. His breath was warm on my ear. His aura of total dominance sent my senses reeling.

‘You dare to ask me that. The times I’ve heard people begging me for mercy. The times they have begged me for death,’ he whispered.

I shuddered as I imagined the dreadful images he’d seen and been the cause of in his quest for power. His eyes searched my face for a reaction and I was keenly aware of his full kissable lips inches from mine. 

‘And did you ever give them what they asked for?’ Why I threw that question his way I never knew. The barely imperceptible shake of his head confirmed my worst fears and for the first time I pitied the life he had chosen. The responsibility he took to provide for his family after a shocking war that had led him into this unending life of violence and murder. I hoped he found solace in the rewards.

This confrontation had to end somehow and I knew what I had to do.

‘You once told me that everything has a price, Mister Shelby. I’m sorry I went against your orders. You have been kind to me and I deserve your anger but the horse doesn’t. You are an honourable man. Please let me make you an offer for his life.’

He actually let out a small laugh at my words. 

‘I’ve just admitted how much of a ruthless murderer I am and yet you still choose to see the good in me.’

He stepped back and crossed his arms. The gun was still cocked in his right hand. Thorne was blissfully unaware of his fate and had started to crop at the grass with the sack cloth still over his eyes. It would be comical if it were not such a desperate situation. 

‘Well, go on. I’m a busy man, Miss Elliot. Present your offer.’

The razor blades sewn into his cap, the sadistic jewels in his crown, glinted in the late afternoon sun. His strong chin tilted upward as he stared me down. I had to be brave enough to parlay with a Gypsy King.

‘There is a mile race at Newmarket next week. The weather is turning, we will have rain that will soften the ground. Let him run and I promise he will win. He will have long odds so you can recoup all your losses today and lay him the next time he races to double that. If he loses, I will dispatch him myself.’ 

He did not look impressed. ‘All that does is give you a fifty/fifty chance of saving his life. It’s not enough, Tessa. You’re wasting my time. I can’t stake my reputation and money on those odds. I need certainty. You need to learn that working for me comes with conditions. I can’t shield you from all the harsh realities of the Peaky Blinders way for ever.’

‘I didn’t ask you to.’ I said. I had seen glimpses of his gangster life but for the most part, I saw a different version of the gang boss who’d cut you for owning a shilling to his second cousin. Now he was showing me first-hand how much of a bad bastard he was. I needed to give him an offer he could not refuse.

He ignored me and turned back to Thorne picking up the end of the discarded rope. ‘Come on boy, it’ll be over in a minute.’

‘Wait,’ I cried. ‘There’s more.’ 

Tommy ignored me and got into position again. His right arm extended straight towards the horse’s head. 

‘I’ll give you...me.’ I gulped, embarrassed to express my meaning. ‘Yours to take for your own...um...recreation.’

That stopped him. He abruptly dropped his arm, holstered his gun and strode with purpose back to my side. 

‘You run away from home because your father betrothed you to a man you don’t love. You left your family, your friends and all you hold dear, because of an arrangement. Your father is still searching for you. Now you give yourself freely to a man who you know is incapable of love to save the life of a horse! You astound me.’

I didn’t expect that reaction. I hung my head in shame. There were times when I was sure Tommy Shelby desired me as I did him. Lingering glances, the wonderful life he had provided for me, violent outbursts at anyone who got too friendly-like and knowing winks from the Peaky Blinders. We had even shared times when he was thoughtful and considerate, but he had never gone any further. How could I have got the signals so wrong? Another silent tear fell down my cheek and I could not bear to look at him anymore.

‘I’m sorry, stupid of me to even think...’ I trailed off in mortification. 

He stood very still for a few moments as if contemplating his next move. ‘Come here,’ he said in that low voice that liquified my insides. I complied and before I knew it, I was in his arms. His thumb swept the tear away with a gentleness that shocked me. ‘You’re too pure for me, Tessa. Your beautiful and brave and I’ve stopped myself a thousand times from taking want I want and now you offer your virtue to me as if it is nothing. Did you ever wonder why I have protected you these months?’ 

I stare dumbfounded. The revelation that he has tender feelings for me is exciting and scary because he is still angry. I was told that he was a complicated man but now I was finding out firsthand.

‘I thought it was because I was good with the horses,’ I said meekly.

‘There is that, it’s true. You can get the best out of a horse but why do you think I cut that fucker who got too friendly in the Garrison? I keep you here in the countryside to protect you from the harsh realities of life in the city and all those who would have you for themselves. All those who would hurt you to spite me and use you as leverage. You see that Gypsy Caravan in the field over yonder?’

I did. I often stopped to say hello when out exercising the horses. I found it refreshing how friendly they were given all the stories I heard tell about Gypsies and their ways. 

‘I do,’ I said.

‘Those are part of the Lea Family to whom John is now wedded. They are under orders to protect you or die trying should any of my enemies or your father come knocking. 

‘I see. I see it all now.’ This further added to my mortification although I still needed to challenge the contradiction in his words. ‘I can only thank you. Why do you say you are incapable of love?’

This question was not answered. He gave me a slow lidded blink and changed the subject entirely, landing a bombshell onto me that I was not prepared for.

‘I know that you are not a poor farm girl from Hertfordshire, Lady Elliott,’ he said with that penetrating gaze. 

I gasped. He knows who I really am. My concealment was futile against a man like Tommy Shelby. There was no point trying to deny the claim. I will land myself in more trouble. 

My shoulders slump in defeat and I wonder if he’s used Thorne to draw all this out of me. All I can do is appeal to his better nature. 

‘It’s true. My father is the Earl of Hertford. I am betrothed to Lord Flanagan against my will. He is a middle aged, fat, cruel man. I would rather die than marry him. So, I ran away last September to lose myself in a place where they would never find me. Then I met you. On my first day in Birmingham.’

‘Lucky girl,’ he said. ‘So now I’m harbouring a member of the Aristocracy to add to my sins.’ A ghost of a smile graced his lips. ‘They’ll have me for kidnap no doubt.’

‘I’m never going back,’ I said defiantly. 

He nodded. ‘You stick to your guns.’ All this talk had momentarily made me forget the tremendous offer I had made but Tommy Shelby had not. 

‘So, you see why you are still under my protection, but I’m a businessman at heart and your offer is tempting. 

A moment’s silence filled the air and my body thrummed with anticipation as his stare penetrated every aspect of my face. ‘So, I accept, Lady Elliott.’

‘Now?’ I ask suddenly afraid. My bravado has deserted me as I contemplate the loss of my virtue. He is known for his expertise with women and I am a novice with only romantic novels to guide me. He shakes his head as he lowers those perfectly full lips to mine, brushing against them as he answers. 

‘Not now,’ he murmurs. ‘When you tell me you are ready.’

Tommy Shelby is always in control. Even if you think you have the upper hand, chances are you don’t. Thinking back, I’d yearned for his kiss from that very first meeting when he’d caught me about to steal his magnificent grey stallion outside the Garrison Pub. Since then, our every interaction had been laced with a tension that took me a while to comprehend. Now I knew. 

The gentle softness of his mouth and the natural way he held me was spine-tingling. He tasted of animal health, faint tobacco, and an expensive cologne all mixed up into own brand of divine masculinity. Intoxicatingly addictive, a thrill shot through me as his tongue delved deeper. My doubts disappeared and I grew bold enough to run my fingers through the back of his shaved head, exploring its texture. He groaned lightly at my touch and our delicious contact became more urgent. He pressed into me and that’s when I felt HIM. My breathing grew ragged and I could not help but pull him even closer, knowing that he was reacting to me in that way. I was ready to abandon myself to him. 

He broke away with a chuckle. ‘I could fuck you right now, Tessa,’ he said in a voice gruff with lust. ‘God knows I want to, but I won’t treat you like a whore. You don’t deserve to be fucked against a stable wall like this. Not the first time anyway.’

Torn between disappointment and relief that the moment he spoke of, in his course Brummie language, would be in my future instead of my present, I laid my head on his chest while he held me tightly. I could have stood like that with him for hours. 

‘I need to go. Business,’ he said ruefully, before kissing the top of my head. I wondered what type of ‘business’ he needed to attend to. ‘Don’t tell anyone that I am going soft...but you can have the horse, Tessa. He’s yours to keep. I’m sorry. We can talk about his next race when I return.’

‘Thank you,’ I murmured into his chest as I recovered my composure. ‘We could go for a ride when are next here.’ I wanted to know when that would be but I knew it was impossible for him to predict.

‘I’d like that, Lady Elliott. Very much. Attend to your horse now.’

We settled Arrathorne Lad back into his stall, Tommy took the hated sackcloth from Thorne’s eyes and burnt it with the same match he had just lit his cigarette with. 

He kissed me again before he roared off in his expensive motor car, promising to return when his business was done. As I watched him depart, I remembered a Gypsy saying that I had heard him quote once. 'You should never parlay when you are on the back foot.' I’ll take his advice next time.


	11. Gypsy Magic

Tommy kept his promise to ride out with me the next time he visited. We rode deep into the countryside, travelling through lush green fields and wooded copses where the sunlight cast dappled shafts of light here and there. I sighed contentedly as we unhurriedly weaved our mounts in and out of the ancient trees. 

‘It’s beautiful here, Tommy,’ I said. ‘The sort of place where magic could happen. Don’t you agree?’ 

‘Gypsy magic?’ he said with a wink. 

I smiled back at him, enjoying his carefree attitude. I felt warm inside when he was content and when Tommy Shelby was on a horse, he seemed at his happiest. His usual brooding countenance had lifted as soon as we set off on our ride. 

‘Perhaps you could show me some,’ I say. 

‘Hmmn, alright,’ he said. He guided Boy away from the track that we were following and curled an index finger for me to follow. 

‘What are you looking for?’ I asked. 

‘Ah, you’ll see.’ He pulled Boy to a stop after five minutes next to a willow tree, dismounted and flung the reins at me. ‘Hold him for a minute.’

I watched as he examined the branches, then he spotted what he wanted and took a small knife from the pocket of his tweed suit and cut a section of a small twisted slender branch, about four inches long. 

‘Now, look at this Lady Elliot,’ he said and handed it to me as he remounted his horse. 

I looked at the piece of the tree. It was pliable and I noticed immediately that the branch had grown itself into a knot.

‘Hold it in the palm of your hand,’ he told me, taking hold of my fingers and encouraging me to splay them. ‘Like this.’

I was intrigued and watched fascinated as he started to utter an incantation in a language I did not understand. The mysterious words rolled off his tongue, his voice low and sure. I shivered as the woods became eerily quiet. It felt like the trees were listening intently to his voice, then a breeze whipped around us and the moment was over. 

‘This willow knot will now bind luck to its keeper,’ he said. ‘It’s a charm for you to hold on to.’ 

I had always been interested in natural remedies such as herbs and tonics for my horses. Whether this was magic, I could not say for certain but I swore I felt something pass between us at that moment. I tucked the charm in to my pocket. ‘Thank you. I’d like to know more about these traditions. Can you teach me?’

He chuckled. ‘Give away all my Gypsy secrets. I don’t know. I’d probably have to kill you afterwards.’ 

For a second, I froze and he must have realised how his comment could have been taken the wrong way, because he reached across, still chuckling and rested a hand on mine. ‘I’m joking, Tessa.’

I recovered my composure and laughed with him. His hand stayed on mine and we rode along in comfortable silence. Lad and Boy walked closely side by side so that our legs occasionally brushed against each other with a clink of stirrup on stirrup. 

The woods thinned out into a lush meadow which led to a shallow lake. We splashed through and dismounted on the other side, allowing the horses to rest and graze. Tommy took a hip flask from his pocket and offered me a sip before taking some himself. 

There had been no opportunity to repeat our kiss last week and I had been in a heightened state of anticipation since then, hoping that we would get the chance to have the ride he promised me and some time together. Now, we sat by the lake and talked over the plans for the horses. 

‘I think you should aim them both at the Guinea’s Meeting in Newmarket in May,’ I say. ‘That gives us a few weeks to get them ready. We could enter them in some warmup races at Worcester and then it’s your choice whether we try to win or lose at Newmarket.

Tommy lit a cigarette. ‘You can ride a horse as well as any man. You can throw a punch and now you’re telling me to fix races. And here was me thinking you were a good girl all this time,’ he said. 

‘Well, I’m running in different circles these days, sir.’ 

‘You certainly are Lady Elliot. Which brings me to something. I have a job for you,’ said Tommy. ‘There’s a man I need to meet, who has so far skilfully avoided all my attempts at contact.’

‘Why would you need my help?’ I ask with concern. 

Tommy didn’t look at me but picked up a stone and skimmed it across the lake. ‘There’s a ball in London, a week Saturday. The man will be there. With you on my arm, I will be admitted into that ball without question.’

My happy bubble burst. Esme’s words came rushing back to me. ‘Tommy doesn’t help people for nothing, you know. He’ll have his reasons.’ 

But...I can’t go to London. At a ball, I would be exposed immediately. I expect that it is common knowledge that I am missing. My father...Lord Flanagan...they would find me.’

‘Your father has concocted a story that has been circulated that you are visiting family in Ireland these months.’

‘Tommy, how do you know that?’ I asked. 

‘I had my people make inquiries. Your disappearance is still a secret to all but your immediate family. They search for you still but we have eyes on their operations. They have not gotten close yet.’ 

‘How long have you known this?’ I demanded. 

He narrowed his eyes and his annoyance was clear to see. ‘For some weeks. I research everyone I do business with. Sometimes the knowledge I possess is the difference between life or death. Considering that you lied to me for months. I think it’s fair that you repay my generosity. I’ve never given anyone a second chance, Tessa. Until I met you.’ he said pausing for effect while moving closer to me. ‘You nearly stole my horse, caused a fight at the Garrison, disobeyed my orders by going racing and hid who you really are.’ He brushed his knuckle on my cheek and I closed my eyes at the contact. When I opened them again, his lips were ever so close to mine. ‘Anyone else would not be breathing now and yet, here you are still breathing away,’ he whispered. 

I was torn between desire and a swell of ignition. The latter won the day and I forced myself to put some space between us and crossed my arms. ‘I made a split-second decision, the first time we met to hide my identity,’ I said. ‘If you were in my shoes, would you have told the first person you met who you really were? I doubt it very much. Then, after your kindness, I wanted to tell you the truth the day before we viewed the cottage but I’m ashamed to say I was too scared about your reaction. And do you blame me? You are the most feared gangster in Birmingham, maybe the whole country. It was self-preservation, Tommy.’

I glanced at him to gauge his reaction. I doubted that many women spoke their mind with the liberty that I often did with him and sometimes I wondered if I was becoming addicted to the danger of provoking him but the look he was now giving me was thoughtful. He’d taken in my words with no outward sign of anger. 

‘Alright, when you put it like that, I’d have done the same, Tessa,’ he said. ‘Let’s say no more about it. But I still need you to do this job.’

A weight settled in my stomach and I knew that I must help him. ‘Who is the man you need to meet?’ I ask. 

‘You don’t need to know his name, that’s who,’ he replied. ‘I need you to tell me what I need to wear, how to behave. All that sort of stuff.’ 

‘Okay, well you need a tuxedo,’ I said and mentally fanned myself at the image that popped into my head. ‘As for how to behave, depends on the host and venue but once the champagne starts flowing there will be dancing and polite conversation. You might need to bow to certain people when introduced or kiss the odd Duchess's hand.' 

'I'm not fucking bowing to anyone,' he said. 'I'll happily kiss a Duchess's hand though.' 

'Okay, well it's all very formal. Not like a night out at the Garrison.’ I shrugged. 

He smiled. ‘I'll behave. Probably. I can get a suit made and you’ll need a dress?’

‘Where is the Ball being held?’ 

‘The Ritz,’ he replied. 

‘Heavens,’ I said. ‘Can’t get much higher society than there. I’ll need a proper ballgown, I’m afraid. Sorry, that will cost money too. I can pay you back.’ I thought again of the jewels hidden in my bedroom. 

He waved away my concern. ‘No need. You shall wear the best dress. Money is not an issue. We will go into Birmingham tomorrow.’ 

‘Oh, but we’ll need an invite from the hostess. How will we get round that?’ I asked. ‘We can’t just turn up unannounced.’

‘You’ll write to the hostess as soon as we get back to the cottage. Tell her that a servant of yours will collect the card as you are travelling back from Ireland and we will be staying at the Ritz the evening of the ball.’

I nodded and then I comprehended his final sentence. ‘Does that mean that we will… both be staying at the Ritz that evening? In the same room?’ 

Suddenly, our conversation which had all been about logistics stopped as I realised what this night could mean for me. He would be in a tuxedo, looking all smouldering and I would be in a ballgown. We would drink and dance and I would be anticipating when he would take me back to our room and teach me much more than Gypsy magic. 

‘Only if you wish,’ he said seriously. ‘I can book two rooms.’ 

‘That would be expensive,’ I said. The risk of being found by my family was becoming worth the trouble to receive the reward of a night alone with Tommy Shelby. 

His lips curved upwards as he shook his head. ‘I’ve told you, money is no object.’ 

‘No, I think that would be fine, actually.’ I said biting my lip and turning away to look at the lake. 

‘What would?’ he said. I got the impression he was finding this exchange to his amusement. 

‘One room,’ I mumbled. 

‘Right, one room will be booked,’ he said and lit a cigarette. 

‘Good,’ I said. 

‘Good,’ he repeated and we both looked at each other and laughed. 

‘By the way,’ I said. Who is the hostess?’ 

He cleared his throat, something I noticed he did often when he was under pressure. ‘A Lady Bailey.’ 

I knew her. ‘That’s my friend, Seraphina, Lady Bailey. I attended her wedding last year.’

Tommy winked. ‘Now isn’t that a lucky happenstance, Tessa.’


	12. The Ritz

The Ritz had opened in 1906 and quickly gained a reputation as London’s most prestigious hotel, attracting a host of both famous and fashionable guests. The hotel enjoyed the patronage of The Prince of Wales who was a loyal client of César Ritz and is reputed to have said; “Where Ritz goes, I go”.

It wasn’t the first time I had frequented the Ritz hotel. I’d been for afternoon tea twice with my mother so I knew what to expect and wondered if their protocols would be tolerated by Tommy. He had no respect for class or rules of etiquette and that issue presented itself as soon as we stepped into the vast, opulent reception hall. 

‘We’re here to check in,’ said Tommy, as the concierge greeted us speculatively over the marble reception desk which was bedecked with flowers. 

‘Can I take your name please, sir?’ he said. 

‘Shelby,’ replied Tommy. The concierge peered at us and consulted a book on the vast countertop set before him. He took an age to run a pen down the list of names, then glanced at us both again. I smelt trouble. Tommy’s face was impassive as we waited. 

‘I’m terribly sorry sir,’ said the concierge, looking around to make sure no one else could hear. ‘The Ritz does not allow unmarried guests to stay overnight on our premises. I’m afraid I can’t see a wedding ring on either of your fingers.’

Tommy took the slight with calm composure. The way he serenely assessed the gentleman who had offended us was just like a tiger stalking his prey, slowly contemplating the moment he would attack. But Tommy did not pull a gun from his holster. No. Instead, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a fat roll of banknotes which he placed on top of the counter with a bang. ‘We’re on our honeymoon,’ said Tommy. ‘We are also guests at tonight’s ball.’ His accompanying stare dared the concierge to defy him now. 

‘Congratulations,’ the man hastily replied. ‘I’ll be sure to place you on our special list.’ 

‘You do that,’ said Tommy. 

‘Of course, Mister Shelby.’

Our suite was the absolute height of luxury. ‘What a stunning room,’ I said he held the door open for me. 

‘I told you, money is no object,’ he replied. 

‘Are you trying to impress me, Tommy?’ I teased. 

His smile lit up his face. ‘I’m just getting used to living like a king. Soon, I’ll have more money than all the toffs going to this ball put together. No offence, Lady Elliott.’

I didn’t doubt it. ‘None taken, sir,’ I said. ‘This man you will meet tonight, I assume that he will be a source of your newfound income?’ I knew this question should not be asked but I was becoming bolder with him as time went on and took more liberties. 

‘Tessa,’ he sighed. 

I cut in before he continued. ‘I come here at great personal risk, Tommy. I should like to know that my sacrifice is worthwhile.’ 

He shook his head. ‘So, a pretty frock, a party and an expensive hotel room is not enough to satisfy you eh?’ 

I didn’t want him to think I was ungrateful. ‘That’s all wonderful and forgive me, but this has been my world for a long time now and I have gotten accustomed to my simple way of life.’

Tommy moved towards me. ‘I thought we had more in common,’ he said. ‘You know a simple life is impossible for a man like me.’

‘We both like horses and anyway, opposites attract they say,’ I countered. 

‘Is the bed to your liking?’ he asked with a wicked glint in his eyes. 

My cheeks heated and I glanced over at the sumptuous, four poster bed. ‘Are you trying to divert me from prying into your secret business?’ I asked, meeting his gaze. 

‘Yes,’ he said. He reached out and took my hand, encouraging me to close the space between us. ‘I think we can find less intrusive uses for your mouth.’ 

He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. The sensation of his tender touch sent shockwaves of desire to parts of me that had never been awakened before this man came into my life. I allowed the unfamiliar urge to guide me as I reached for the nape of his neck encouraging our lips to meet in a heart fluttering kiss. His shorn hair prickled underneath my fingertips like the coat of a clipped-out horse. My senses were again overtaken by the intensity of this exhilarating newness that had previously been alien to me. Now I revelled in the delicious way he guided my tongue to play with his until the moment I had longed for was cut short by the chime of the clock on the mantlepiece which had just struck six. 

‘As much as I’m enjoying keeping you quiet. We have a long night ahead of us, Tessa. I need to pick up my suit from Saville Row,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back at eight o’clock just before the ball commences. Enjoy yourself, relax, order drinks and call a maid to help you dress or whatever you need.’

‘Thank you.’ I said still slightly trembling from the kiss. ‘A Saville Row suit too.’ 

‘My suit will be on the house, or the house burns down,’ he said with a smirk. 

‘I should have guessed,’ I said. Funny how such a statement felt normal these days as I became more accustomed to the wicked ways of his world. ‘Will you dress here?’

‘No, I’ll let you have some privacy. I’ll change at Ada’s house. I have to deliver something to her. She lives nearby. My men are stationed inside and outside the hotel to keep you safe while I am gone. You’ll stay in this room until I return.’

‘As you wish,’ I answered. ‘Stay safe too.’

The dress I had chosen shimmered as I slipped into it. It was sleeveless, with fashionable beading at the bust. Two straps ended in a v-shape low at my back, embellished with more beading. It was daring and it skimmed my curves pleasingly. My mother would not have approved and that reinforced my choice, but I wanted to look as sharp as the Peaky Blinders did. The shop assistant had told me that the Lanvin gown had just arrived from Paris after being handmade by the designer herself. The gold colour reflected the light of the dressing table. The material was a heavy, floor length satin. New stockings, dancing shoes and a fur cape completed the ensemble. I only wished that I had jewellery to embellish the outfit further, but I had forgotten to bring mine which was stowed away in the cottage. 

It was nearing eight o’clock by the time I dismissed the maid who had helped me with my toilette. I poured myself a gin and tonic and found myself pacing the room in anticipation of Tommy’s rival. It must be especially important to him to meet this man tonight. Why else would he be risking my exposure otherwise? Despite the earlier worry over Esme’s words, I now trusted him completely. 

The ball would only be a couple of potentially uncomfortable hours of my life if I had to answer awkward questions from my friends. Tommy would protect me and once we were back in the hotel room…well…that was something that I was more nervous and excited about. Afterwards, we would return to Birmingham and Avecote, to my animals and look forward to the flat racing season. Happiness seemed to shine out of me as I checked my appearance in the mirror for what seemed like the hundredth time. I finished my gin tonic and poured another small one for courage. There was also a crystal decanter of Irish whiskey and Tommy entered the room just as I was pouring one out for him. I took a sip of gin to hide the absolute rush of desire that shot through me as I appreciated the sight of him in black tie. He’d never looked more handsome. 

‘You read my mind,’ he said as he closed the door and made his way over to me. ‘Well aren’t you going to be the belle of the ball.’ I handed him his glass and his stare devoured me as his eyes flicked over my body. 

‘Thank you. How was your sister?’ I asked. 

‘Fine. There’s something missing on that outfit of yours,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘Just come here a moment.’ I complied as he reached for his inside pocket, retrieving a black square box and handing it to me. ‘Here, open it,’ he said. 

Set inside the velvet lining, was a diamond tiara, necklace and earrings. ‘Oh, Tommy, they are beautiful. Are they really for me? Thank you. Where did you get them?’ 

‘Call them wages for coming here with me. I have a business associate in Camden Town. He owed me a favour.’ Tommy looked ridiculously pleased at my reaction and it was heartening to me that he had explained somewhat of their origin. I hoped that meant he was trusting me more. I had long since decided that I wanted to be more involved in his business and aspired one day be at his side. I quickly fastened the earrings and arranged the tiara in my dark hair. 

‘Turn around, let me help you with the necklace,’ he said. 

As he carefully fastened the necklace, he placed a kiss on my bare shoulder. ‘You are fucking gorgeous,’ he said but before I had time to answer he gave me some instructions. ‘Now, if you are asked where you have been these months, you stick with the Ireland story. Alright?’

‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘How will I explain how we are connected? People will want to know who you are.’

‘Tell them that I am a distant cousin who is chaperoning you home from Ireland. That’ll have to do.’ He lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale. For a moment, his usual confidence seemed to evaporate. Then he squared his shoulders and took my arm. ‘Right, let’s get this over with.’


	13. Ballroom Dancing

‘Mr Thomas Shelby and Lady Tessa Elliott,’ announced the crier at the entrance to the ornate ballroom. A few heads turned and I was conscious of many pairs of eyes following us as we made our way inside. Tommy now was back to his full customary swagger looking more comfortable in the throng of aristocracy than the Prince of Wales himself. 

‘Look at the bastards, staring and whispering,’ said Tommy quietly in my ear. He kissed my hand and bowed exaggeratedly. ‘Let us give them something to gossip about. May I have this dance, Lady Elliott?’

‘Why thank you, Mr Shelby,’ I smiled. ‘That would be lovely. I didn’t know you were a dancer.’

‘I can do anything I put my mind to,’ he answered. 

‘I don’t doubt it,’ I said as he led me on to the ballroom floor. 

‘But I did dance before the war,’ he winked. ‘So, I’ve got previous.’

As soon as I was in his arms, the stares and whispers didn’t matter anymore. I was only aware of him. The masculine scent of his cologne and his glossy black hair sweeping his deep blue eyes which were sparkling with amusement. 

‘You like stirring up trouble,’ I murmured as we danced cheek to cheek. 

‘Yes, I do,’ he said with a click of his tongue. The music swept us along and I enjoyed the closeness of the waltz. My heart kicked up a notch as he placed a supportive arm around my waist holding me in a strong dancer’s frame. His fingers caressed the small of my back while his thumb found my bare skin. The action was public but also so intimate. Just like him. Contradictory.

‘You’re just making it worse,’ I whispered. 

He laughed. ‘The gossip or the speed of your pulse?’ 

‘Both,’ I replied huskily. 

When the dance ended, we searched for some champagne. As we took our drinks to a vacant table, I was approached by the hostess herself, Lady Bailey.

‘Seraphina,’ I said as we embraced. 

‘Tessa, how wonderful to see you. I’ve been so worried. I wrote to your parents and they said they would forward my letters to you in Ireland,’ she said as she gave me two air kisses. ‘Did you not receive them?’ 

‘Well, I…,’ I started to say but Seraphina’s face lit up at the sight of Tommy beside me. 

‘Tessa, pray introduce me to the most handsome man in the room.’ She gave Tommy a dazzling smile.

Tommy took her hand and kissed it. ‘Thomas Shelby,’ he said not bothering to address her as ‘her ladyship’. Seraphina did not seem to mind. 

‘Delighted, sir,’ she said. My friend had always been gregarious and many suitors had admired her before she settled on her husband. As the three of us chatted for a few moments, I noticed that Tommy had gone very still. I followed his gaze. He was staring over at a man in military dress on the other side of the room. 

He cleared his throat. ‘Ladies, excuse me for a few moments please. I must say hello to an old acquaintance.’ 

‘Of course, Mister Shelby,’ said Seraphina. ‘Tessa and I have lots to catch up on, take your time.’ 

For all I knew, Tommy could be about to pull a gun on the man he was headed toward so I kept a careful watch on him as I batted away my friend’s questions. So far, so good. Tommy and the man were talking calmly. They both turned to look at me and I noticed a barely perceptible flash of frustration cross Tommy’s face before he continued with the conversation. Whatever they were talking about, it was serious. As they took a table to drink whiskey, his expression was unreadable again. 

‘Do you know who Tommy is talking to?’ I asked Seraphina. 

‘That’s Major Wallace. He’s high up in government I believe,’ she replied. 

‘What does he do?’ I said. 

‘Not entirely sure,’ said Seraphina. She was obviously not interested in talking about old soldiers. ‘Now, on a more pressing matter, you have to tell me how you came to be acquainted with that gorgeous creature.

‘Tommy?’ I said. ‘He’s a distant cousin.’

‘Poppycock!’ cried Seraphina, laughing. ‘Come, we have been friends for too long. You have never mentioned family in Ireland or handsome cousins. If you had, I would have insisted we took a boat to Dublin years ago. And cousins do not dance as close as you two just did. Why, his hands were all over you.’

It was hard to keep the pretence up against such an onslaught from my dear friend. ‘Look, it’s complicated…’ I replied. 

‘I bet it is. I thought you were to be betrothed to that awful Lord Flanagan. Odios man. How your father could agree to that I never knew. I suppose that match is off?’ 

‘Without doubt,’ I said. 

‘Good to hear. As soon I received your letter requesting attendance at the ball, I crossed that old bugger off the invite list. ‘Ah, look your Mister Shelby is coming back to us.’ 

Tommy joined us and immediately placed a hand on my waist. I wanted to melt into him with relief but held myself back. How fortunate that Seraphina had the intuition to disinvite Lord Flanagan. She was a good friend. 

‘You have friends in high places, Mister Shelby,’ said Seraphina. 

‘Men are created equal, Lady Bailey,’ said Tommy, lighting a cigarette and offering one to Seraphina which she took. I did not partake, though I wished I did at this point because my friend was becoming a tad too familiar with my companion for my liking. 

‘And what of women,’ she winked. 

‘I treat women with the same respect as men,’ he said. ‘In some cases, I find women more determined and intelligent than any man in power.’ 

‘How very forward thinking of you, sir.’ 

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of her husband, Lord Bailey. ‘Forgive the intrusion,’ he said to us, with a nervous glance at Tommy. ‘Seraphina, dearest could I borrow you. The Duchess of Kent has arrived.’ 

‘Bother the Duchess of Kent, I’ve not seen Lady Elliot for an age. You remember Tessa, from our wedding?’ 

‘Of course, most delighted to see you again,’ he said and inclined his head.

‘And this is Mister Shelby. We are having the most interesting conversation about women’s rights.’ 

Her husband visibly gulped. ‘How do you do, Mister Shelby,’ he said quietly. 

‘Oh, I’m marvellous,’ said Tommy in a mock posh accent causing Lord Bailey to turn slightly pale. 

‘Seraphina, please,’ said Lord Bailey. ‘The Duchess of Kent is waiting.’ He seemed desperate to separate us. 

‘Ugh, okay Sidney, I’m coming. Lovely to meet you, Mr Shelby and to see you again, Tessa. Enjoy the ball. Be sure to write soonest.’ 

I nodded and she was ushered away. Tommy chuckled. ‘Didn’t take long for word to get round that a gangster is at the ball. Lord Bailey looked fucking terrified.’

‘I thought he was a bit keen to get her away from us,’ I agreed. ‘I expect they will be watching us closely at the banquet. Are you hungry?’

Tommy slid his hand across the small of my back, splaying his fingers against my bare skin. ‘Yes, but not for food.’ 

Suddenly, any appetite I had for supper vanished. ‘So, shall we dance again?’ 

‘Only if it’s in the direction of the bedroom,’ he said, watching me intently. 

We danced slowly across the ballroom. I was eager to know how his meeting had gone. ‘Did you get what you needed?’ I said.

Tommy gave me a look that was hard to fathom before replying. ‘A deal has been struck.’

‘Is that all the answer I am to expect?’ I said. 

‘Yes, it is Tessa,’ he said. He twirled me round sharply, causing me to gasp. ‘Now, what do I have to do quiet your beautiful lips.’

I could barely conceal the urge that overcame me. ‘You can kiss me again,’ I said breathlessly. ‘That should do it.’ Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Major Wallace watching us. 

Tommy let out a brief chuckle. ‘What, here in front of all these important people?’ 

I nodded ‘I don’t care what people think anymore, Tommy.’

‘Fair enough,’ he said before brushing his full, pouty lips across mine. ‘Neither do I.’


	14. All Night Long

Tommy continued kissing me almost all the way to our suite, only stopping to cross the lobby floor and press the button for the elevator. Once inside the moving, mirrored box, our passion did not abate. I could never tire of the taste of Tommy Shelby. His own brand masculinity was an addictive potion to me. I became bolder now that we were alone, pressing myself against him, anticipating the moment when he would reveal his well-honed body to me. The sight of his skin blessed by moonlight on New Year’s Eve had haunted me for months. 

We could not enter our suite soon enough. He slammed the door shut and urgently we reached for each other. As he hooked one of my satin covered thighs to pull us flush together, I felt him instantly. My eyes which had been closed in absolute ecstasy flew open at the contact. I wasn’t afraid. Shocked maybe, but the sensation was more than pleasant the second time around and of course I was all in expectation for him this time. I could not help but let out a moan, knowing what was to come. 

He cupped my face in his hands. ‘Fuck. Tessa, wait,’ he said urgently. ‘I do bad things. You already know, that right? You understand the type of man I am?’ 

I shook my head. ‘You do bad things for the right reasons, Tommy. Always for the right reasons,’ I whispered. 

He broke our contact and paced away from me reaching the fireplace, rubbing a hand over his face. I heard him mutter another curse under his breath. ‘I wish that were true. I just think that…tonight… well, maybe you should reconsider. Save yourself for a husband before I ruin you. There will be other men someday. More suitable men.’

‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘You think I do not comprehend the enormity of this moment? I would rather remain a maid for my whole life than miss this one night with you. Other men will never make me feel as you do. They will pale in comparison, Tommy Shelby. So, kindly act more like a gangster and take what is owed to you, sir.’ 

I walked slowly towards him and he seemed reluctant to engage with me. His eyes did not meet mine and I could tell he was fighting internally with his conscience. I wondered what had driven him to this indecision. Swept away by the occasion, I sidled closer and shyly placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He was motionless and I felt close to despair at his lack of encouragement. I would be utterly lost if he rejected me now. I took a step back and hung my head. Then I felt his hand brushing down my bare arm. I met his serious gaze. 

‘You are sure this is what you want?’ he asked. 

‘Yes,’ I said. 

‘Because we could just break the deal off. Right now. By Order of the Peaky Fucking Blinders,’ he said softly. 

If he thought that would lighten the situation, I was not laughing. ‘No,’ I said. 

He slowly circled me. The room was dimly lit by the crackling fire and my gold dress shone in its light. ‘Alright, Tessa. Fuck the consequences, eh?’

I shivered with anticipation and nodded. This was actually it. Tommy Shelby was going to seduce me. He was standing behind me now; I closed my eyes in ecstasy at the touch of his lips on my collarbone. He hooked a finger under one of my dress straps and agonisingly slowly slipped it off my shoulder before doing the same with the other. His teeth grazed my skin and I let out a moan at the contact. 

‘You like that?’ he said as he turned me to face him. I nodded. ‘Good. You tell me what you like and what you don’t like because I’ll not push you into doing anything you don’t want to do.’

‘I won’t expose your kindness,’ I whispered. ‘Your men will think you have gone soft.’ 

His lips curved upwards in reply and he tugged gently at my dress which cascaded to the floor in a pool of golden satin at our feet. ‘Fuck,’ he breathed as he surveyed me. I only wore a pair of silk, French knickers. A bra would have ruined the line of the Lanvin gown. ‘So beautiful.’

I felt terribly self-conscious as he stroked his fingers across my breasts which had tightened at his touch. I caught my breath at this unfamiliar sensation. He noticed.

‘It’s just you and me here, Tessa,’ he said reassuringly. ‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Look at yourself.’ He guided me over to a mirror and stroked me again before it so I could see what his hands were doing. ‘See, absolutely perfect.’

I watched fascinated as he kissed his way from my neck to my breasts, before taking one in his mouth. My breathing sped out of control as he continued to explore my body. He threw off his tuxedo jacket and ripped himself free of his tie so he could continue with his discoveries. He picked me up as you would a new bride and carried me over to the four-poster bed, kissed me again and set me down carefully on the counterpane. My earlier bravado flowed away. Clumsily, I helped to remove his clothes, my fingers clashing with his and fumbling with the buttons. ‘It’s ok, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Just relax, this is all new to you. I know that.’ 

He shrugged off the white dress shirt followed by the rest of his clothes, his eyes not swaying from mine. Even the way he removed them was sexy and self-assured. He knew he looked good. He knew I was in awe of him, but I didn’t care. I wanted this man more than anything I had ever dreamed of. I drank in the visual of his naked torso, the lean musculature the result of putting his body to work every day. I reached out to touch the sun tattoo on the left-hand side of his chest. I’d not noticed it the last time I has seen him with few clothes on.

‘What does it mean?’ I asked as I ran my fingers over the faded ink. 

‘It means, I was born free and will die free, Tessa,’ he whispered as he nudged me backwards to lie underneath him. ‘But I will go to hell.’

I fervently hoped that this would be true and that his many sins would not catch up with him one day. The thought of him in a prison or worse in a hangman’s noose was too painful to bear. 

‘How can you go to hell when you send me to heaven with every kiss?’ I said. 

‘I’ve told you before. You give me too much credit,’ he answered and shook his head with a smile. ‘Always seeing the good in me.’

He expert mouth trailed fire-driven kisses down my body, intensifying every sense as he worked his hands and mouth lower. I raised myself up as his tongue trailed across my stomach. It felt so strange but in a good way. His fingers soon accompanied his mouth, caressing me through my satin knickers sending shooting sensations to a place that I had never comprehended could feel in such a way. This was truly the first time I had been touched by a man. White hot heat flowed through my veins. 

‘Pretty,’ he said, elongating the word. ‘Where are these from?’ 

‘Paris,’ I just about managed to answer, through shallow breaths. 

Then he trailed a finger down the material so that I had no choice but to arch my back and lift again at the pressure of his stroke. He pressed firmly causing me to cry out in joy.

“Paris, eh? Well they are fucking soaking wet.” He slipped the knickers off in one swift movement and slid back up the bed to face me. 

I was keenly aware of slickness between my legs and I knew instinctively that my body was ready for him. The curse that accompanied his endearment reminded me of who he was and it excited rather than repelled me. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked softly. 

‘Yes, Tommy,’ I said, grateful he was checking in on me. 

‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘We’re going to take this slow, okay.’ 

‘Please,’ I replied. 

‘Give me your hand.’ 

I complied and he carefully guided my fingers to trail down his chest, across his toned stomach which seemed to ripple, to rest on another hard muscle. I pulled back in alarm. My breathing became ragged. Tommy smiled encouragingly and I tentatively placed my hand back, feeling its shape and texture, strafing my thumb over the head. He groaned lightly. 

‘Is it nice when I do that?’ I asked. 

‘Bliss.’ 

His body now blanketed mine, but his weight was not oppressive as he gently encouraged me allow him to settle between my legs. My eyes closed and a swell of apprehension arose as I felt the size of him resting against me. I shifted position slightly. This only caused a delicious friction, so I shifted again and let out a moan at the intimate contact. 

‘Feels good?’ he asked. ‘You ready?’ 

‘Mmm hmm,’ I replied nodding. 

‘You tell me to stop, I’ll stop,’ he said. His blue eyes were dark with lust. 

Tommy’s kiss was fiercer this time as he sated himself on my mouth. In contrast, he ever so gently rocked his hips forward, pressing himself slowly into me. It must have been torture for a man so used to fucking anyone, anywhere, anyhow, and here he was treating me like precious porcelain. My heart would always be his but even more so after this night. 

‘Oh,’ I cried. My brow furrowed as a feeling of fullness became stronger along with a moment of pain which disappeared almost as soon as it arrived. My hand was on the back of his neck, the other balled into a fist at my side. 

Tommy who was intently watching my every reaction stilled. He swept up my closed fist, unfurled my fingers and placed it on his heart. ‘Sweetheart, relax. Did I hurt you? Do you want me to move again?’ 

‘A little but it’s better now,’ I said. ‘Please don’t stop.’ 

His hips rocked again, and my eyes fluttered shut as I embraced the movement by relaxing as he advised. How long we continued I knew not. My hips swayed with his as I buried my face into his neck before throwing my head back as I felt myself tightening into a whirlpool of ecstasy. 

‘Tommy,’ I cried. I had heard about such raptures, but nothing could have prepared me for a thrill such as this. 

‘Go with it, Tessa,’ he said. His own voice was gruff with lust and desire. Effortlessly, he flipped us over and I found myself positioned on top. I rolled my hips causing a deep, intense, fluttering that made me grip his hair and cry out as his hands roamed everywhere. My world was now all about him. Every touch, every kiss, every endearment or curse uttered from his beautiful lips until I finally cried out joyously. His own release soon followed, and he held me tenderly for an age as the delicious sensations ebbed away. 

All night we continued making love, barely sleeping. Once the dawn broke and the birds sang and the London traffic trundled past our window on the streets far below, I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It rose and fell with the steady breathing of sleep. No nightmare troubled him. He looked so content. His thick, eyelashes sweeping his high cheekbones, softening his gorgeous face. 

‘I love you,’ I whispered. Whether he heard, I was not sure but he pulled me closer to him and kissed the top of my head as I drifted off to sleep.


	15. Betrayed

Sunlight streamed into the suite. I stretched luxuriously like my kittens often do by the fire and reached out for Tommy. I was disappointed to find that I was alone in the bed. Tommy was sitting at a desk by the window, already fully dressed. He peered at me over the top of the papers he was reading, a cigarette hanging from his lips. ‘Morning, sweetheart,’ he said. 

‘Morning,’ I replied. Looking at him now, I could not help the quell the butterflies that swirled in my stomach at the sight before me. 

‘The maids have drawn you a bath and I’ve ordered breakfast.’ 

‘Right, thanks,’ I said. ‘Are… you well?’ 

‘Yes, good,’ he said. ‘You?’ 

‘Um, good, thank you,’ I said. 

Our exchange felt a little awkward and I wasn’t sure why. As I was not accustomed to the ways of men, I thought little of it. He returned to his papers and I retired to take my bath. The warm water was welcome because as soon as I stood up, I could feel every muscle aching as if I had been on a four-hour foxhunt. Nobody had told me that lovemaking was such a sport of exertion. I dressed, paying careful attention to my appearance, looking forward to spending the next few hours in the Bugatti with Tommy as we travelled back to Birmingham.

I found the breakfast table in the drawing room laden with delicacies but no sign of Tommy. A maid served me and told me that Mister Shelby had just popped out on an urgent matter of business and would return shortly. I was apparently to start without him. Oh well. Even that could not burst my bubble of contentedness and after all, I was starving. Fruits of all exotic kinds, bacon, toast, preserves, French pastries, tea and coffee were all set out beautifully. I simply fell upon the repast with enthusiasm having had no dinner the night before. 

Funny though that when Tommy finally returned to the room, I suddenly found that I could not eat another thing. 

‘Hungry, were you?’ he said with the faintest suggestion of a smile as he surveyed the remains of the spread.

‘Yes, delicious, thank you,’ I said. ‘Can I help you to something?’

Tommy took the chair next to me and shook his head. ‘No, thanks. Although…’ he said and brushed a flake of croissant from my lips, popping it into his mouth before pulling a face. ‘Nah, still don’t like French food.’ I laughed but his mood still seemed sombre. 

He cleared his throat and stood up. ‘We should make a move if you are ready?’

‘Oh, okay. Yes, I’ll just get my hat. The maids have already taken the luggage down to the car.’ I had wished for more intimacy this morning, but I got the feeling that Tommy was already in business mode and I would just have to take what time I got with him and be thankful.

The concierge bade us goodbye like old friends, shaking Tommy’s hand and bowing to me. The Bugatti was waiting outside, flanked by several of Tommy’s men looking mean and tough but very respectful. None of whom I recognised but then the Peaky Blinders now had a foothold in London. His army of men was growing. Tommy held the door open for me and I slid into the passenger seat as gracefully as I could. I had to admit it was quite thrilling to be on a gangster’s arm and I thought that I could very well get used to this. In fact, I hoped very much that I would be able to spend more time with him in public now. 

‘Let’s get you home, Lady Elliot,’ said Tommy as he manoeuvred the vehicle away from the hotel. 

‘I can’t wait to get back to the cottage. I do so miss the horses even though it’s only been a little over twenty-four hours. I’m longing for a good gallop. Will you ride out with me when we arrive? Oh, and the dog and the kittens. I miss them too. They are such great mousers you know. Esme said they would be, didn’t she?’ I said rattling away. I just felt so wonderfully happy. 

‘Hmm,’ said Tommy, who was obviously concentrating on the busy London streets. 

I nudged him and smiled. ‘You’re not listening to me are you, Tommy?’ I said. ‘Business trouble?’ 

He glanced briefly at me. ‘Something like that. Light me a cigarette, will you?’ 

I did as he asked, and we travelled in silence for some miles. I was quite content, watching the world go by and surreptitiously glancing at Tommy. He drove as well as he rode a horse and I enjoyed the journey. He handled the big car with expert ease and we tanked along at a fast pace. As the city streets gave way to country lanes, I wondered when we would hit the main road to the north. 

‘Tommy, should we not be heading for the Birmingham Road?’ I asked. ‘Surely we are on the east borders of Hertfordshire and I should know.’ 

He did not answer but tugged his peaked cap further down his forehead. We drove on for a few more miles then he sighed deeply, pulled the car into a layby and switched off the engine. 

‘Why are we stopping?’ I asked. 

He immediately lit a cigarette, rubbed a hand over his face and cursed to himself. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he muttered. 

‘Tommy, what’s the…’ I said but he cut me off before I could continue.

‘I’m taking you home, Tessa,’ he said. He cleared his throat and looked me directly in the eyes. ‘Not to Avecote. Back to Hertfordshire.’ 

My mouth dropped open and I was silent as I gathered my thoughts. ‘No, I don’t believe you…why would you…surely you can’t mean…’ 

‘There’s things I need to do,’ he said, cutting in again. ‘Things that you don’t understand.’ 

‘Then tell me about them and I’ll understand,’ I said flinging my hands in the air. ‘You keep everything bottled up inside you. Everybody says so.’ 

‘Is that a fact?’ he said. ‘I spend every waking hour of my life making sure ‘everybody’ has a future, ‘everybody’ has money, making sure ‘everybody’ is safe. My family, my factories, my business associates, my men and even their fucking wives, kids and dogs rely on me to provide. I have to think for fucking all of them, Tessa. So, forgive me for keeping all that shit to myself because if I share it out, their minds will fucking explode with the pressure, alright?’

‘You promised to keep me safe, Tommy,’ I cried. ‘Now you are throwing me back to the wolves. How could you allow me to be forced into marriage with Lord Flanagan after all we have been through? After last night.’ 

Tommy took a deep breath. ‘You are safe. You’ll be even more safe back at your manor house with all its stables and grounds,’ he spat out bitterly. ‘Lord Flanagan will renounce your hand so you will be free to choose a husband or not, as you see fit. Your father, who is in massive debt by all accounts will be compensated, and your cousin will not exercise his right to the entail on your estate, if he wants his family to live.’ 

‘You don’t tell me what to do,’ I cried and grasped the car door handle. ‘I’m not going back and you can’t make me. I’ll walk back to Avecote if I have to.’ 

Tommy took hold of my wrist to prevent me from exiting the car. The touch of skin on skin jolted me but I was so mad that I shook him off. ‘Tessa, you have to go home,’ he said softly. ‘There’s just no way around it.’ 

Realization hit me like a brick, and I sat back in my seat. ‘You made a deal. You traded me for an advantage, didn’t you?’ 

Tommy took an age to reply and when he did regret was all over his face. ‘It wasn’t my intention,’ he said. He lit yet another cigarette. ‘I’ll tell you something now that I’ve not even told Polly or any of my family. You deserve to know.’

‘Please do,’ I said archly. 

‘I served under Major Wallace in France and given he is now a high-ranking government official, I’ve used that connection to further my business interests. Now you and I both now that I’m a murdering, Gypsy bastard, so he’s also used me to undertake certain tasks, shall we say, in the interests of national security. That’s how it works, I get something, they get something.’

He’d said that to me once before and I knew then that was all I was to him. A means of getting something he wanted. I could feel my heart fracturing as he told his tale. ‘Do you mean that you have to kill for the government?’ I said.

He nodded. ‘It’s like the war never ended for me, Tessa,’ he spat. ‘A few weeks ago, I carried out a hit at great risk to me and my family. The mission was a success but since then, Major Wallace has been avoiding all contact and he owes me. That’s why we went to the ball. 

‘What was your price?’ I asked.

‘I want London police on my payroll so I can extend my ownership of pubs and clubs in the West End. I want import and export licences to ship my goods and those of my associates to the US and I need to take down a rival gang at Newmarket next month with no repercussions,’ he explained. ‘I’m taking over all their betting pitches to set up a legitimate business to flow money through from other places.’

This was the most he had ever revealed to me about the way of his world and now I was on the cusp of leaving it all behind. ‘What do I have to do with this?’ I asked. 

He stared out of the car window trancelike before responding. ‘It’s fine for me to pull the trigger, send a man to his grave, make widows and rip families apart with grief. I know what I do Tessa and I’ve told you before that I will go to hell for my sins. No matter what I do for my King and country, no matter how legitimate I become, those toff bastards like Major Wallace will never accept me into their society. No matter how much money I make, no matter what I fucking do.’ He turned to face me. ‘Having you on my arm is a step too far. I’m good to murder for them but not to fuck their women.’ 

‘I’m not theirs Tommy.’ I said gently. ‘I am yours.’ 

He scowled and gripped the steering wheel. ‘Yeah, and you people always want something more from me.’

‘You people?’ I repeated. ‘You consider me as bad as them?’ 

‘You wanted me to take you to bed. I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, you got what you wanted. A bit of rough to teach you the ropes and now you can go on and make a good marriage. Fulfil the destiny of your birth right,’ he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. 

My open hand connected with this cheek with a resounding slap. He took the impact coolly; his face was impassive. He knew he deserved my censure for his cruelty. 

‘If that is your assessment of my character, Mister Shelby,’ I spat. ‘Then I am better off in Hertfordshire. Deliver me home and complete your deal.’ 

‘Tessa…,’ he said. 

I crossed my arms and looked out of the window. ‘You have said enough, sir.’

As he started the car engine, I swallowed hard to stop the tears from falling. Hell would freeze over before I showed weakness in front of him again. We drove on in absolute silence. 

The road to my estate wound through magnificent woodland, herds of sheep and deer grazed contentedly. Every second that passed felt like an age. We reached the brow of a hill which gave a perfect view of the entirety of the huge mansion. All sixty bedrooms, servant quarters, guest wing, stables and gallops built in a honey coloured stone. Tommy slowed the car as he took in the view of the main house with a huge lake set at its foot. I felt him glance at me, but I ignored him. 

We pulled up to the main entrance where servants, who had no doubt seen our approach were waiting to greet us. I was glad that there was no sign of my father and mother. I stepped out of the car without a word, slammed the door and out of Tommy Shelby’s life.


	16. Delivery

I didn’t look back as Tommy drove away, but I listened until his car engine could no longer be heard before I allowed any tears to fall. Unable to face my parents I retreated to the stables which had always been a place of solace for me when times were hard. It would not be long until my presence would be known by all on the estate. 

Thirty noble equine heads greeted me as I entered the yard; chestnut, grey and bay. Each horse whickering at my approach. I breathed in the unmistakeable atmosphere of horse, sweet hay, straw, dung and leather which never failed to soothe my troubles. For a few minutes I delighted in recognising old friends and meeting new arrivals to the stud, including a cute little foal that could not be more than a day or two old. 

‘Hello,’ I crooned as it popped an inquisitive muzzle into my hand. ‘You are a little sweetheart are you not?’ The endearment that slipped out of my mouth keenly reminded me that Tommy had called me the very same last night and I rested my head on the stable door with a miserable sigh.

‘Aye, that he is, your Ladyship,’ said a voice in an old Yorkshire accent. 

I swung round. ‘Oh, Grenville,’ I exclaimed. ‘How very good to see you.’ My father’s ancient horseman had worked for the family all his life and his father before him. He always knew when to say the right thing and not once did he reproach me for my absence or pry into the reasons. It was as if I had never been away and I was grateful for his tact and diplomacy. 

‘And you too, lass,’ he said beaming. ‘I said to the Master many times that when you did return, you’d be found with the horses and glad I am to be right. 

I smiled. ‘A Yorkshireman always like to be right,’ I said. 

‘That he does. You look very well. Your father has been informed of your arrival by the servants and is keen to see you. He waits with your mother in the Library.’

‘I imagine he is,’ I muttered to myself. ‘Thank you, Grenville.’

Tense was the best description of my first meeting with my parents. My mother threw herself on me and we both cried openly. I was not unfeeling, and I did love them despite their plans for my life. I never understood why I should be restrained by duty. Their old school approach was all they ever knew. They could not understand the freedom that I wanted. The freedom that I now craved after several months of loving Tommy Shelby. 

‘Dearest Tessa,’ my mother cried as we embraced. ‘What possessed you? Where have you been? I have a thousand questions.’ 

‘None that I will be able to give satisfactory answers to, Mother,’ I said. 

‘How I have suffered without you,’ she wept and glanced at my father. ‘How we have both suffered.’ 

I extracted myself from my mother’s arms. ‘Mother, I’m sorry for any pain I have caused but think about what you were asking me to do before I left. You know my disposition and you know Lord Flanagan’s. I could not possibly be happy with that odious man.’

My father cut in. ‘Tessa, it is still an eligible match, if he will have you.’

‘Father, before you start. Circumstances beyond your comprehension have forced me to return home but let me assure you that Lord Flanagan is still the last man I would ever be prevailed upon to marry.’ 

‘The fate of our family still depends upon your marriage, Tessa,’ cried my father.

I crossed the floor and poured myself a whiskey into a heavy, crystal glass ignoring the stares of astonishment from my parents. I imagine they were not used to a woman drinking spirts and at such an early hour. If this small act demonstrated that I was changed then I was glad. 

‘No,’ I told them calmly. ‘Father, I believe that you love me as much as any parent would towards an only daughter. You indulged me as a child, allowing me to live free for my twenty-two years. Often overruling mother on censures of my behaviour. What changed? There must be an exceptionally good reason for you to insist upon this madness.’ 

My father looked at the floor and I instinctively poured a drink and handed him the glass. If what Tommy had said about my father being massively in debt, I needed to know how. 

‘In recent years, we have steadily exceeded our income and I did not worry because I knew that if you married well, your husband’s fortune would settle any small debts we had. So I became reckless at times, buying more than we need, jewels for you and your mother, horses, garden projects, commissioning statues and the like, knowing that I had a loving daughter who would see her family right when the time came.’

‘That cannot be all father. Tell the truth,’ I implored. ‘If that were true then I would have been sensible enough to choose my own husband.’ 

He sighed deeply, shame all over his face. ‘I have gambling debts, Tessa,’ he said before taking a huge gulp of whiskey. ‘Cards mainly. Lord Flanagan is part of a circle of gentlemen that meet in London. I got in too deep last year to try to alleviate the money problems and this is the result. He is not a man to trifle with and I am the world’s worst gambler.’

‘Did you know this too, mother?’ I asked. 

She nodded. ‘I’m sorry. We did not know where to turn. Lord Flanagan said he would treat you well…’ 

They could not yet be aware of Tommy’s resolution of my family’s problems and I did not enlighten them. I let them feel the injustice of their actions until I was sure that Lord Flanagan had been warned off.

A few days passed with no consequence. I rode out every day, spending the majority of my time at the stables. At breakfast one morning, the stable boy came running into the room, out of breath.

‘Please, your Ladyship,’ he said. ‘There’s pair of gypsies just arrived in the stables with a horse wagon. Grenville says I was to come and get you. They say they have a delivery for you but will not unload unless you come yourself.’

‘Thank you. I’ll be along shortly,’ I told him.

‘I’ll accompany you, Tessa,’ said my father, picking up a shotgun. 

‘Father, I can assure you that a weapon will not be required. In fact, you’d do well put that away. Take my advice and be respectful.’

‘Respectful?’ he replied in astonishment. ‘Damn Gypsies on my property.’

I recognised the two men who were waiting for me. The horse wagon was embossed with ‘Shelby Company’ on both sides. They were the men who had delivered my feed supplies all winter. 

‘Morning, Miss Tessa,’ one of them said and doffed his peaked cap. 

‘Good gracious,’ muttered my father. ‘How dare they address you as such.’

‘Hush, Father,’ I scolded. ‘Gentlemen, good to see you again.’ 

‘We’ve a delivery here for you from Mr Shelby, Miss,’ said the gypsy. He opened the cab door and brought out a wicker basket out of which I could hear loud mewing. 

‘My cats,’ I cried in delight as he handed the basket to me.

His companion was already unloading the side of the van and along with a huge trunk, which I assumed contained my belongings from the cottage, bounded the dog that Tommy had given me at Christmas. I’d called him Blinder after the gang. Tommy had given me a rare smile when I told him his name and said I was soft in the head. I fussed over the fluffy, grey wolfhound as he jumped around in excitement at seeing his mistress again. 

While I had not expected the return of my animals, what surprised me most was the sight of Arrathorne Lad being unloaded from the wagon. He stepped lightly down the ramp and gave a trumpeting whinny as he skedaddled on the stone flags of the yard. The gypsy handed Granville the horse who walked him round to get its bearings. 

‘Right, Miss. That should all be in order. Mr Shelby has arranged for the transfer of ownership to you. Here’s the Jockey Club confirmation.’ He reached into his pocket and handed me a sheaf of papers. ‘Oh, nearly forgot,’ he said and presented me with a letter, sealed with red wax in the Shelby Company logo. ‘Mr Shelby said I was to hand you this letter personally. Here you are. We’ll be on our way now.’ 

‘Thank you,’ I said almost speechless. ‘Is Mr Shelby…well?’ Just to talk to someone who knew him, who’d seen him perhaps just a few short hours ago piqued my curiosity and overrode my still seething disappointment at the gangster. 

‘Ah, you know Tommy,’ he replied. ‘No one knows what he’s thinking. You take care now, Miss.’ With that I had to be content. 

‘Thank you. Goodbye.’

‘That’s a fine racehorse you’ve got here,’ said Grenville. Gypsies know about horses, but they seldom give them away good ‘uns for nowt.’

‘Yes, Tessa,’ said my father. ‘What’s the meaning of this menagerie?’ He shook his head at the cats, dog and horse assembled before us. 

‘I really think that you should be more open minded about people, father,’ I said.

I walked over to Thorne and stroked his neck. He nudged me for treats. 

‘My mother said I never should, play with the gypsies in the wood, if I did, she would say; you naughty girl, you naughty girl to disobey,’ sang the stableboy, who received a clip round the ear from Grenville as he led Thorne away to a nearby paddock to stretch his legs.


	17. Letter

Once Thorne was safely settled in to his stable, I hurriedly retreated to my room to read the contents of Tommy’s letter. 

"Small Heath  
Birmingham  
14 April 1919

Dear Tessa, 

Along with this letter, you should now be in receipt of all your belongings from the cottage at Avecote, including the ownership of Arrathorne Lad as agreed between us. I am a man of my word and this concludes our deal. I hope that he gives you many victories on the racetrack. 

You may think me cold and heartless to refer to our night together after the Ball as part of the deal we made. You know who I am by now, but please understand that I will never forget the gift you bestowed upon me that night and will treasure the memories of those hours in my heart forever. 

I learnt long ago never to apologise. If you do it once, you do it again and again, like taking bricks out of the wall of your house and before long you will bring the whole house down on top of you. But my conduct towards you during our last meeting has given me much pain and regret. You will be entirely within your right to hate me, but I hope that in time you can learn to forgive me. 

If my life were different, then perhaps we would have stood a chance. I heard what you said to me at dawn just before we slept. You asked me once why I believed I was incapable of love. Men like me are not allowed to choose love. To have you at my side, would put you in constant danger. I promised to keep you safe and sending you away is the only way I can guarantee that. Though not planned, in settling your affairs as part of my deal with Major Wallace, you will have freedom to live your life as you choose. 

I ask for one more favour from you. Do not enter Thorne at Newmarket next month. I know I ask too much, but I have worked so hard for this day, for this victory. I cannot be distracted. I have responsibilities here for people and for my family who I need to protect. 

In parting us forever, I sacrifice my own feelings. 

I wish you every happiness. 

Yours sincerely  
Thomas Shelby"

A hundred emotions flashed through me as I read and re-read his letter. He hadn’t said he loved me, but it was implied that he did. I pressed the paper to my lips, inhaling the faint scent of cologne and tobacco, knowing that his own fingertips had touched the very same parchment. 

This was his way of ending our connection. I knew that, but I would not be hidden away like a rare artifact in a museum or a priceless necklace, too precious to wear. The time I spent with him and his kin, taught me that life should be lived at its fullest, with all risks taken. Because at any moment, everything can change in the blink of an eye or in Tommy’s case, like a bullet from a gun. I loved Tommy Shelby and he knew it. I refused to pine away with a broken heart; I just needed to find a way to convince him to take a chance on his own. 

I spent my afternoon, writing back to him and tearing up my pitiful attempts at correspondence. Every word I penned just could not convey the message I wanted to give. I thought about running away again to find him, but I knew that to be impossible. My parents had enlisted the watchful help of the servants and I was not allowed on excursions without a chaperone. 

My bedroom overlooked the long carriage drive, giving a beautiful aspect of the estate. It also provided a view of visitors to the house, long before they arrived at the front door. I sat on the window seat lost in thought until the sight of a car approaching shook me out of my languor. 

As far as I knew, we had no visitors planned for dinner this evening but to my horror the car which had just parked outside contained the hateful Lord Flanagan. I watched the portly figure roll out of his car, waited upon by his ever-present manservant, Edward Slater. He was a hulking wall of muscle, rumoured to be a former military specialist who was more bodyguard than butler. After, listening to my father’s story about card tables, it was not surprising that Lord Flanagan needed a capable henchman as a protector. 

I bristled and knew that I needed to face both not least to see if he had been warned off yet. Though that mattered little to me as I was still resolved to refuse his hand. I found Lord Flanagan in the drawing room with my father, who looked rather pale. The fire illuminated Lord Flanagan’s shiny forehead, which was large and domed due to his thinning hairline. 

‘Lady Elliot,’ said Lord Flanagan, inclining his head briefly. ‘You are returned to us, from your adventures.’ His voice had a grease-like unpleasantness to it, thick and rich. 

I stared back at him coldly. ‘Father, I’d like a few minutes alone with Lord Flanagan if you please.’ 

‘Are you sure, Tessa?’ my father replied with a frown, he glanced at his guest. ‘Please join us for dinner, sir. We would be delighted, and I am sure Tessa would be too. Isn’t that right dearest?’ 

I sighed inwardly. My father was showing the backbone of a jellyfish and I hated to see the man I once admired reduced to such a level. He obviously thought I was still going to marry this man. 

‘Father, I can assure you that a few moments alone with this gentleman will settle things, thank you.’ 

‘Very well,’ replied my father as he exited the room with a more hopeful look on his face. ‘I’ll ask your mother to tell cook to set an extra place at the table.’

I was not going to be intimidated and I held my head high as I poured myself a drink and joined Lord Flanagan at the hearth. He smirked as he looked me up and down. His manservant stood by the window, silent and motionless but observing all. 

‘I’ve heard that you’ve been slumming it in the depths of Birmingham for the past few months,’ said Lord Flanagan. ‘I must say I was rather surprised to hear that you had absconded from home. I can’t imagine why, especially when we would have made such a handsome couple. I was so looking forward to our wedding. My mother had picked out a hat.’

He was goading me, and I let him have his small victory because he was already talking about our marriage in the past tense. ‘Let me remind you that I had made no acceptance of your hand,’ I told him archly. 

‘Oh, but your father did, Tessa. So, that was binding enough for me, but it seems that our union is no longer viable.’

‘I’m sure you have been compensated accordingly,’ I spat. 

‘Hmmn, yes well perhaps I have and perhaps I have dodged a bullet. You looked changed, my dear,’ he smirked. 

‘Oh, I am,’ I said. ‘And for the better.’

‘That depends on how you look at it. I been informed that you defiled yourself with a gypsy gangster at the Ritz Hotel,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t marry you anyway now. You made an exhibition of yourself in public and lowered yourself at the hands of a common criminal.’

‘He is a hundred times the man you are,’ I said. 

‘Men like him will hang and deservedly so. I’ve come out of this rather well. Your father’s debt has been paid with interest and I’ve avoided marrying a slut.’

I didn’t even give him the satisfaction of looking remotely upset at his slander. Something I had seen Tommy do when he was having difficult conversations. I remained calm and outwardly untroubled.

‘I’d rather be a slut, than marry a pig like you. So, I guess we have both dodged a bullet,’ I said. 

Lord Flanagan nodded and smiled as if I had just paid him a compliment. I didn’t expect what he had up his sleeve. 

‘That may well be, but Tommy Shelby will not dodge the next bullet that shoots his way.’ He turned to his manservant. ‘Isn’t that correct Edward?’

The huge man said nothing but opened his coat to reveal a gun. I suddenly felt sick. They meant to kill Tommy. 

‘You see, I’m not running away with my tail between my legs. You have embarrassed me and my family so I will punish you for that.’ 

‘You’re no match for him,’ I said, hoping to convince the fiend to change his mind. ‘You’ll never find a way through to him. He’s too protected.’

‘My servant will kill Tommy Shelby,' he replied. 'I’ll find his weakness and I when make my move, you will both pay.’


	18. Message

I suffered the indignity of having to sit at dinner that evening with Lord Flanagan and my parents, who were blissfully unaware of all that had passed between us. All I could think of was how to warn Tommy that his life was in danger. When the gentlemen retired to take brandy, I told my mother that I had a headache and rushed to my father’s study where we had a telephone. 

The line to the Peaky Blinders rang and rang until a female voice answered. 

‘Esme?’ I asked. 

‘Depends whose asking?’ said the deadpan voice. That response was categorically Esme. 

‘It’s Tessa,’ I said. ‘I need to speak to Tommy. It’s urgent.’

‘Tessa, are you alright? I heard what happened in London. Tommy’s been in a mood ever since. We’ve all been getting it in the neck.’ 

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Well, not really but look, I need to talk to him. He’s in danger.’

‘Tommy’s always in danger,’ said Esme totally unconcerned. ‘Part of the territory and anyway, he’s not here.’

‘Where is he, Esme?’ I cried. 

‘He’s gone off roaming with Johnny Doggs in a caravan,’ she explained. When he got back from London, he went off the rails, drinking and fighting. He nearly killed Arthur when he told him to snap out of it. So, Polly made him go off with Johnny to do some hunting, buy some horses and get some more soldiers. She said he needed to focus on something other than, well…you.’ 

‘Me?’ I said. 

‘Yes, Polly says that he is in love with you. She’s not seen him like this since before the war. He’s got it bad for you. You need to come back.’ 

‘He doesn’t want me to come back, Esme,’ I said. ‘He made that clear.’ 

‘Rubbish. He’s stubborn. You’re just going to have to convince him overwise.’

While this conversation gave me hope that Tommy may yet still change his mind about us, I wasn’t getting any further warning him about the hit on his life. 

‘Esme, listen please,’ I said urgently. ‘Is there any way you can get a message to Tommy? The man I was going to marry says he is going to kill him. Tommy warned him off and now he wants revenge.’ 

Esme was unimpressed. ‘He’s always got people wanting to kill him. Tell your man to join the queue. Tommy’s gone off to Wales, no hang on, it could be Cumbria. Anyway, he won’t be back until Newmarket races so the fella that wants to kill him will have to wait. I’ll let Tommy know when he gets back. You hurry up and make it right with him. We miss you Tessa and we are all fed up with his moods.’

With that, I had to be content. It seemed that such threats were so common that Esme was immune to their horrors, but I fretted and paced my room that night tormented by the trouble that I had brought Tommy. I could not rely on my message getting to him. What if Esme forgot or he just didn’t see her when he returned from his travels. I knew that I had to tell him myself in person but to do that I’d need to go against his orders and enter Thorne at Newmarket. 

I rode out the following day with my father. As we trotted up to the gallops, he told me that Lord Flanagan had relayed to him the news that we were no longer to be wed and that he had written off the debt owed to him at after-dinner drinks. 

‘I really do not understand Tessa how it came to be. That man is notorious for collecting his debts. We were extremely fortunate it seems,’ he said. ‘I am glad that you were able to come to an agreement with him. I feel that we own this all to you, dearest child.’ 

‘I can assure you, father, that you are only half right. I would never have married Lord Flanagan and I told him so yesterday. The truth is that you owe your good fortune to another man. A great man but one who you never could approve of. Mister Thomas Shelby of Small Heath, Birmingham.’ 

‘The man who sent you the racehorse? His name was on the horse wagon. But who is he, Tessa?’ asked my father. 

‘He is… though I don’t really know where to start except to say that he has protected me and given me shelter all these months. Without him or his family, I know not what would have become of me.’ 

‘Tessa, if this period has taught us anything, your mother and I will no longer stand in your way.’ 

I let out a small laugh. ‘Father, he is a Gypsy gangster. One of the most feared men in the land. I doubt very much that you would approve.’ 

‘Approval is one thing, but acceptance is another. Your future is yours to make,’ he said. ‘What is his business?’ 

I paused. ‘He has a number of successful businesses and owns racehorses, hence why I came to own Thorne. It was a very generous gift.’

‘So, we owe him a great debt, I see,’ said my father. 

‘Yes, but there is more. If you contact our cousin, you will find that he will not exercise his right to the entail on our estate.’ 

My father reined in his mount, slowing the horse to a walk, and stared at me dumbfounded. ‘But that tradition is binding. I don’t see how it could be possible.’ 

‘Mister Shelby can be very persuasive,’ I said. 

‘I see and am I ever to meet this Mister Shelby to give him my personal thanks?’ he asked. 

I doubted that Tommy would want to meet my family. In his eyes, they had virtually sacrificed their own daughter for profit. Diplomacy was not his strongest trait when he did not respect someone. I did not relish a meeting between them. 

‘Probably not,’ I said. ‘He has shown me much kindness and generosity, but our connection is at an end.’ I wanted to nip this conversation in the bud. ‘Now let me show you how fast Thorne is. I’d like to enter him at Newmarket. It’s been ages since we had one good enough.’ 

The entry forms were duly dispatched to the Jockey Club and as my parents were safe in the knowledge that our future was secured, they relaxed the restrictions on my freedom and I was able to plan for the day without too much subterfuge. I did enlist the help of my friend Seraphina to invite my parents to luncheon in her private box on race day so that I could roam the racecourse unhindered in order to find Tommy but that was an easy enough task to arrange. Seraphina was delighted to assist if I promised to bring ‘that gorgeous gangster to dinner one day, darling.’


	19. Newmarket

Tommy had always intended that Thorne and Boy would run in the Guineas. Their training schedule had been tailored to produce them at their best for Newmarket. Thorne had not been able to have his tune-up race at Worcester but I knew that Boy had competed there as planned. A quick glance at the Sporting Life newspaper had confirmed that he had run well, winning his race by two lengths. Now more punters would back him at Newmarket in the hope that he would continue to improve. I bet that Tommy would order his jockey to lose the Guineas race so that he could collect all their stakes. Glory on the racetrack was of no importance to him, not when he could further his business interests, but I wanted Thorne to win. 

For me, there was no finer sight than thoroughbred racehorses galloping down the vivid green turf of Newmarket’s Rowley Mile. The thunder of hooves almost deafening one’s ears, the colourful silks flashing past like a moving rainbow as the jockeys drove their mounts forward into a relentless rhythm. Only top-class horses compete at the Guineas meeting in May where the colts contend the 2000 Guineas race; the first of three classic races which make up the British Triple Crown. The second race is the prestigious Derby in June, then finally the St Leger Stakes in September. All three races are run at different distances so a horse with the speed and stamina to win all three will reach the pinnacle of the sport by becoming the best all-round racehorse in the world. A feat that few have achieved. Entering Thorne in the race enabled me to have a reason to be at Newmarket to see Tommy but I also wanted the horse to take his chance. 

I travelled to the course with my parents and had a quick drink in Seraphina’s private box before racing began. The view of the final furlong and winning post was marvellous, high above the crowds below. Thousands of racegoers were set to enjoy a day of sport and larks. A spread of the finest cuisine was laid out and waiters plied guests with champagne and canapes while a top jockey joined us to mark the race-card with his predictions and tips for today’s winners. 

‘Darling,’ cried Seraphina, spotting me at the viewing window. ‘So glad you popped in. I have news and it's not good, I’m afraid.’ She kissed me on both cheeks and did not draw breath. ‘My bloody hubby took it upon himself to add Lord Flanagan to today’s party. I’m terribly sorry. He is in so much trouble I can tell you.’ 

I gulped my champagne. ‘Why on earth would he do that?’ I said in alarm. It was now imperative that I found Tommy today. 

‘No idea, but you should head off down to your horse before he arrives, for your own sake. I do not want to see you in distress though I am so glad that you are not marrying that scoundrel anymore.’ She winked at me. ‘Especially when there are far more attractive options available to you.’ She took my glass and shooed me away. ‘Now, go and get your gangster.’

It was not until I entered the parade ring when I finally saw Tommy. I ached to run to him, but I held myself in check. He had not yet noticed me, so I drank in the visual that I had dreamt of these past weeks. He was flanked by his brothers and they all stood in the centre of the paddock giving off an air of supreme confidence as if they owned the whole racecourse. The Peaky Blinders were immaculately turned out in their tweed suits. In their working-class uniform, they looked far more at home amongst the horses than the peacocking upper class, who in their top hat and tails were glancing warily at these interlopers.

As the horses arrived in the paddock, everyone turned to watch them enter. At this point, he could not fail to see me, and his eyes met mine. I detected the slightest of smiles and a rueful shake of his head. He nudged Arthur, spoke quietly to him then sauntered towards me. He stood alongside me, his hands in his pockets and for the casual observer, we could just be discussing the horses which were clip-clopping past us in file. 

‘I should have known you wouldn’t fucking do as you were told,’ he said. 

‘Wonderful to see you too, Tommy,’ I said 

He ignored my barb. ‘You have a message for me, I hear,’ he said. 

‘A warning actually,’ I replied. 

‘Lord Flanagan getting ideas above his station?’ Tommy said before I had a chance to speak. 

‘You spoke to Esme then?’ I said. He nodded so I continued. ‘He has ordered his servant to kill you. He’s here today so please take care. I’m sorry, Tommy. I’ve brought you so much trouble.’

He paused, looking at the floor and kicked at an imaginary stone. ‘You are worth all the trouble in the world, Tessa,’ he said quietly. 

We glanced briefly at each other and I swallowed a lump of emotion. I pointed towards the horses to distract myself. ‘Boy looks well.’ 

‘Yep,’ he said. ‘Trained up to the minute.’ 

A bell rang, signaling that the jockeys should mount. 

‘Are you confident about Thorne’s chances?’ he asked. 

‘I think he will show well but Boy has the advantage of another run under his belt.’ 

‘Good luck then,’ he said and turned to walk back to his brothers. 

‘Tommy,’ I called. ‘We need to talk. Properly.’ 

I think he was expecting this question, but it was clear that he was hoping that I would not ask. He pursed his lips and exhaled a pent-up sigh and took a step back towards me, shaking his head.

‘This is not a good time. I have things to do today. You know that. Not least a would-be assassin hunting me when I’m a fucking sitting duck at this racecourse.’ 

‘I know but…’ I tried to say. 

‘I’ll find you before the last race is over, Tessa. I promise.’ 

I had to be content with that and watched him return to his family. Granville was about to leg up our jockey and I gave him some brief instructions though my mind was full of Tommy.


	20. Guineas

As the horses made their way onto the track, the throng of racegoers followed them, leaving the paddock eerily empty. The Peaky Blinders had disappeared too, and I headed off to the owners and trainers stand to watch the race. With no sign of them there either, I assumed that Tommy was using the race to do whatever business he had planned. 

Moynihan Boy was favourite in the betting, reinforcing my view that Tommy would ensure his horse lost to collect all the punters’ stakes. Thorne was showing at a fairly big price of 6-1 for a small field of only seven runners, that meant that he was not fancied to run well. It mattered little to me but I hoped that the staff at home had managed to put some bets on via Granville. There would be a big party in the servants’ quarters if Thorne won. 

As the Guineas was a Group One race, the horses paraded at a walk in front of the stands so the crowd attending in the less expensive parts of the racecourse could get a chance to see the equine heroes up close. Thorne walked out calmly, his coat shining with health and vitality in the sun. Boy, on the other hand, was jig-jogging along and snatching at his bit, raring to go. I hoped that Thorne was not as laid back in the race. 

There was an agonising five-minute wait as the horses cantered down to the start a mile away from the winning post. I trained my binoculars on Thorne who travelled nicely on his way to battle with an easy swinging action. The ground was on the soft side and it suited him. Boy had bolted off and I hoped that his jockey had got him under control. His black coat was lathered with sweat already. Even though we were on opposing sides today, I still wanted him to run well. I was fond of the horse after all and had trained him all winter. 

There was a lull in noise and chatter as the horses lined up by the starter’s flag, then a roar from the crowd signalled that the race was on. Every man, woman, and child standing on tiptoes and straining their eyes to watch them careering towards us. The low rumble of hooves thrumming on the turf caused the ground to vibrate underneath where we stood. The voice of the race commentator was audible as it was broadcast over the racecourse by loudspeaker: 

‘…and they’re off in the 2000 Guineas! A good even break and they are running at pace down the track, led by the front running Moynihan Boy who is taking a keen hold and giving his jockey some trouble. Behind him are Staten Island, Door Latch and Arrathorne Lad, who is absolutely cruising in fourth place. The King’s horse, Precious Stone follows a length behind along with Resolution and Clover at the back of the field. As they reach the halfway point, it’s still Moynihan Boy in the lead with Door Latch closing in and Precious Stone is beginning to get up alongside for a three-way battle. It could be a fantastic day for the King at this rate but no… Arrathorne Lad’s jockey has pressed go and the horse is responding magnificently! He’s overtaken Door Latch and Precious Stone too. As they head into the final furlong Moynihan Boy is fighting to keep his lead. What a brave horse he is but Arrathorne Lad is bearing down on him. It’s going to be close but my goodness, they are stride for stride and now as smooth as silk, Arrathorne Lad is a head in front, now a length but look at Moynihan Boy rallying! The post can’t come soon enough for both horses. What a race! Arrathorne Lad wins the Guineas. The favourite Moynihan Boy in second place, third is Precious Stone. The rest…nowhere!’


	21. Confrontation

I waited for hours for Tommy at the stables. Thorne had come out of the race well. Granville and I had walked him out, washed him down and the winner of the first classic race of the season was now gently munching a pile of hay without a care in the world. Granville had gone to prepare the wagon. I had told him to take a break too and catch up with some of his old friends who he had spotted at the racecourse. Anything to delay our departure. 

The only sign of Tommy was a rumour spreading throughout the racecourse of a commotion at the bookmakers’ pitches after the Guineas. Smoke had been seen rising but the police were surprisingly absent. I’d heard the grooms talking about men in peaked caps violently overpowering the pitches and burning existing bookmaking licenses. I kept quiet and hoped that Tommy had come out unscathed. Then again, perhaps Arthur and John had led the charge for him. They usually did. 

The stables were quiet as there was only one race left on the card. Most of the horses that had competed today had departed. The racecourse was emptying as punters headed off early to beat the crowds on the way home. I waited for Tommy to come. 

The communal barn area held four horses, but Thorne was the only remaining horse in this part of the yard. The equines who had contested the Guineas were had been given a private section away from the hustle and bustle of the main stables for privacy. All those horses had left hours ago. Even Moynihan Boy had departed via a Shelby truck with no sign of his owner. I had just entered Thorne’s area again to pet him for the hundredth time when two shadows fell across the straw which lay thick on the floor. 

‘Tessa, my dear,’ said an oily voice.

I swung round to see Lord Flanagan and his servant, Edward Slater standing in the doorway. 

‘What the hell do you want?’ I hissed. 

‘I just came to congratulate you and meet the victorious Arrathorne Lad,’ said Lord Flanagan. 

‘Well, here he is,’ I said gesturing towards my horse. ‘Now you can leave.’ 

‘Let’s not be hasty,’ he said as he entered the stable himself followed by Edward.

‘Get out,’ I said. 

‘Now, now. Where are your manners? We are going to wait here with you. I managed to get a message to your Mister Shelby. He’ll be here shortly,’ he said, then added with satisfaction. ‘If he wants to keep you alive.’ 

Lord Flanagan nodded to Edward who grimly withdrew his gun and pointed it at me. I stepped backward and met the stable wall. 

‘You see,’ said Lord Flanagan. ‘Every man has a weakness. I told you I would find it and it was staring me in the face. You and you alone will be Tommy Shelby’s downfall.’ He chuckled smugly. 

‘No,’ I shouted and tried to push my way past the two of them but all that got me was an arm around my chest and a gun jutting into my ribs. I struggled in vain and called out for help but the man holding me was a six-foot beast. 

‘Settle down,’ he grunted and put a large hand over my mouth. 

My struggles must have been audible because the sound of many heavy boots marching towards us on the cobblestones thundered in my ears. I realised with horror that my cry for help could hasten Tommy to his death. I wanted to shout out a warning as I knew Tommy and his men were approaching, but my voice was still muffled because of the hand on my face. I bit down on Edward’s finger and he yelped out in pain, shaking it out. 

‘Tommy!’ I called as loud as I could. ‘Turn back. It’s a trap.’ 

A flock of peaked hats barged into the stable, ignoring my plea, guns raised. Edward took a keener hold of me and I struggled to breathe. In their midst was the unmistakable figure of Tommy Shelby. He scanned the stable, assessing the situation and his eyes shot to the gun that was now pressed firmly into my neck. When he spoke, his voice was almost unrecognisable such was its fury. He pointed at Edward with his own pistol, locked and loaded. 

‘Release her. Right fucking now.’

Edward glanced at his boss, clearly looking for direction. Lord Flanagan sneered at Tommy. 

‘Mister Thomas Shelby,’ he said. ‘Finally, I get to meet the famous Gypsy gangster that government seems to love.’ Tommy barely acknowledged him as his eyes were trained on me and my captor, so the slimy oaf continued. ‘If you want her to live, then send your men away.’ 

I could see the cogs of Tommy’s mind working out his approach. At length, he nodded. ‘Alright,’ he said quietly. ‘Arthur, John, take the men out of here.’

Arthur’s face screwed up in anger. ‘Tommy, that’s fucking suicide, brother,’ he hissed. 

‘Nevertheless, Arthur,’ he replied. ‘Do as I say. Go on. Get out.’

‘That’s right,’ said Lord Flanagan waving a dismissive hand. ‘Be gone.’ 

I was beginning to think that the fat lord was losing his mind. It would have been funny if the bastard didn’t have the upper hand but at this moment, he did. 

Once the Peaky Blinders had reluctantly departed, Lord Flanagan turned to Tommy. ‘Throw your weapon on the ground,’ he ordered. 

Tommy muttered a curse and dropped his gun to the floor. 

‘No,’ I cried. ‘Tommy, what are you doing?’ 

‘He’s doing as he’s told, Tessa. The working class usually do when their backs are against the wall.’ said Lord Flanagan. ‘Unlike you, who does as she pleases. Look where that has got you, my girl. I am going to enjoy watching your heart break. When he is dead, you are going to help us dump his body in the muck heap over there. I’m going to make you shovel horse shit on top of him.’

I knew now that Tommy was doomed. He was sacrificing himself for me and my heart ached with the anticipated horror of what was about to happen. I stared into his eyes, my own brimming with tears. He looked calm and ever so slightly shook his head, willing me not to break down in front of this man. 

‘That’s funny,’ said Tommy, seemingly unconcerned at the elaborate description of the aftermath of his own death. ‘Can I have a last cigarette before you shoot me?’

‘It’s may I, but of course, Mister Shelby. Feel free,’ replied Lord Flanagan. ‘I’m glad you find your demise diverting.’ He was clearly enjoying himself. 

Tommy ignored him, lit his cigarette and spoke to Edward, pointing at him with the hand that held his smoke. ‘Edward Slater, Sergeant Major of the Royal Fusiliers, City of London Regiment, First Battalion.’ He inhaled a curl of smoke and blew it out with satisfaction. 

‘What of it?’ Edward replied. 

‘Just good to meet a fellow officer of the proper kind. I was a Sergeant Major of the Warwickshire Yeomanry, a tunneller. I heard that you were fair and well respected by your soldiers. Unlike some,’ said Tommy, gesturing dismissively to Lord Flanagan. ‘Obviously, fucking cavalry over here.’ 

Edward grinned briefly and I felt his grip on my waist lesson. 

’Enough of this,’ cried Lord Flanagan, registering the snub. ‘Edward, I order you to shoot him now.’

Edward hesitated as Tommy spoke to him again. ‘Your wife, Mister Slater. She leaves your house in Cheapside every morning, without fail at eleven, pushing your baby son in his Silver Cross pram across the road to St Paul’s Cathedral Gardens.’ Tommy tutted and shook his head. ‘Busy road at that time in the morning.’

‘Ignore him, Edward,’ shouted Lord Flanagan but Edward had released me in horror, realising the fate of his family was now in Tommy’s hands. I sidestepped towards him, hoping beyond hope that this situation was now in our favour. 

‘Now,’ continued Tommy. ‘I’ve twenty-five men waiting out there, two brothers and those that served with me in the war. Loyal soldiers. What the fuck do you think they are going to do to you and him when they find me shot dead?’ 

‘The police will see to them,’ blustered Lord Flanagan. ‘Your sins are legend. They’ll be glad to be rid of you.’ 

‘Police are on my payroll,’ said Tommy with calm satisfaction. ‘You don’t need to take orders from the fucking cavalry anymore, Edward. I’m a fair man too. You’ve released the lady as I asked. I could do with a man like you, a leader in my London operations if you show me loyalty... now.’

A few moments of silence were broken by a single gunshot from Edward’s gun. Lord Flanagan slumped heavily to the ground, his eyes staring but unseeing, blood trickling from the hole in his forehead. Thorne half reared up in his stall and let out a whinnying scream.

I froze in terror at the sight and I screwed my eyes shut but Tommy’s arms soon comforted me. He pulled me tightly to him and I buried my face in his chest inhaling his scent. The Peaky Blinders had run-in shortly after the bang and were already clearing the body away. 

‘Arthur,’ said Tommy and pointed to Edward. ‘Get this man on the books. He’s alright.’ 

‘Right’o Tom,’ said Arthur who then addressed Edward. ‘Come on, grab a leg. He’s a heavy one.’


	22. Enough

When we were alone in the stable, Tommy offered me his hipflask and I gratefully took a hit of whiskey. I needed it for the shock if anything. Blood still pooled on the yellow straw and I shivered at the image that kept flashing into my head. 

He urged me to sit down on a hay bale. ‘You’re alright, Tessa. It’s over now,’ he said. ‘No need to ask if that was the first man you’ve seen die.’ He smoothed his hand over my hair and pulled me into him. 

I inhaled a shuddery breath and said nothing, so he took my silence as confirmation. He continued in a voice that was soft but sure. ‘This is why you and I… together… will never work, sweetheart. I can’t risk you getting hurt or killed every time an enemy comes for me. And they will come, Tessa. They always do.’ 

‘Tommy, no,’ I said into his chest. ‘Please… I don’t care about the danger.’ 

He shook his head, cleared his throat and lit a cigarette. A sure sign that he was controlling his emotions. ‘I care, Tessa. I care about you and I need to keep you safe. It’s the only way.’ 

I put some space between us and stood up. ‘You’d rather I was kept locked away, stored in a box like a precious jewel, never to be worn or admired,’ I cried. ‘That is a life not lived.’ 

‘It’s better than being dead,’ he answered simply. He toked on his cigarette and gestured with his hand as he exhaled. ‘Some day you will marry and have children and I’ll just be a memory.’

I wanted to shake him. ‘Tommy, you do not get this do you? To hear you talk about me marrying someone else is just unspeakable. I will never love any man as I do you. I will never marry another.’ 

He flicked his spent cigarette into a water bucket and shrugged. ‘I explained myself in the letter I wrote to you.’

‘You wrote that we could not be together to protect me from harm, but I wonder if you are protecting yourself, Tommy?’ Silence hung in the air. Only the sound of Thorne munching his hay was audible. 

Tommy tugged his cap further down his head, shrouding his eyes in shadow. ‘I can’t allow myself to…’ he stopped as if unable to say the words. 

‘To love me?’ I said for him.

Pain was etched on his face as he replied. ‘It’s just the way it has to be, Tessa. I’m sorry.’ 

‘Are you?’ I cried. ‘Are you really? Let’s examine this for a moment. Tommy Shelby can have any woman he wants. I know that. I know that you will never be short of companions though it breaks my heart to think of it. Will you keep your heart untouched forever?’ 

Tommy stepped towards me with intensity in his blue eyes. ‘Tessa, I did love a girl once. Before the war. Her family didn’t want her to be with a gypsy boy from Watery Lane.’ 

‘What happened to her?’ I asked. 

‘Spanish Flu,’ he said bitterly. ‘I stayed at her bedside for weeks holding her hand. The doctors said nothing could be done.’ 

‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered. 

He cleared his throat again and shook his head. ‘I swore from the day I lost her that I would only allow women to come and go in my life. Then I met you, Tessa.’ His eyes seemed to be filling with tears, but he kept them in check although his voice was gruff. ‘I can’t go through that again.’ 

‘You can’t control everything, Tommy. You just need to let things be sometimes and…,’ I said but he interrupted me.

‘No. That is why we must say goodbye, Tessa. For good this time. What do I have to do to make you understand? People do as I say because they fear and respect me but you… you defy me at every turn.’ He shook his head and gave me a wry smile. 

‘If I am willing to take the bad with the good,’ I said. ‘Then why not you?’

‘The bad,’ he mused. ‘What do you class as bad, Tessa, eh? Was the killing you just witnessed bad enough? Or could you look a widow or a mother in the eye knowing that the man you love is responsible for their grief? Doesn’t matter how much money you give them. It will never bring their men back. They will always wish you were in hell.’

He ran a hand across Thorne’s back and I knew he took comfort from the solid, silken coat of a horse just as I did. 

‘I know who you are, Tommy. I know what you do but you always have reasons, good reasons why you need to act like you do.’

‘Sometimes though, it’s at the expense of innocent people and I have to live with that on my conscience every day,’ he responded. ‘I don’t want that life for you. You shouldn’t have to bear the burden.’

‘What I do with my life is my decision. Not yours, nor my father or mother but mine. I want to be at your side. Not some trophy to be paraded at parties or hidden away in a village waiting for your return. Wherever you need to be, I will be with you. At your side, Tommy.’ 

‘At my side, eh?’ he mused. 

Thorne’s velvet muzzle was searching Tommy’s pockets for treats and nudged him closer to me in the process. I grinned and patted the horse. 

‘‘Yes, and on top of you, underneath you too,’ I said trying to lighten the conversation. See, Thorne agrees with me.’

‘Huh,’ scoffed Tommy. ‘I should have shot him when I had the chance.’

‘You don’t mean that,’ I said. 

‘You’re right. I’m just kicking myself for giving away a champion racehorse.’

‘Are you trying to change the subject, Mister Shelby?’ 

He smiled at that but there was bitterness in his next line. ‘Yes, but I’m not the only one. You’ll desire me to change. To get rid of the bad and embrace the good. I must continue to work, and my work is not legitimate so…’

‘I don’t want you to change,’ I said firmly. I took my hand off Thorne’s neck and placed it on Tommy’s heart. ‘I only want your love, Tommy. I promise to welcome the good and help you through the bad. Let me help you bear it.’ 

I searched his face for a reaction, but he would not look at me. His eyes were cast away and shrouded with sadness. My stomach weighted with dread. I was going to lose him. He was going to let me go. 

I caressed his flawless cheekbones, feeling the clean-shaven skin under my fingertips as they tapered downwards to his strong jaw. There was no resistance as I met the cushiony softness of his lips with mine and my hopes once again rose. 

My eyes fluttered shut at the contact and he kissed me back in a moment of pure pleasure that sated the yearning I had for him these past weeks. But it did not last. Something seemed to harden in his whole countenance as he forcefully broke us apart, holding me by my shoulders at arm’s length. 

‘Tessa, this stops now,’ he snarled. 

I took a pace backwards, utterly bewildered. His face was a mask, hard and unforgiving and I realised that I was staring at the gangster who commanded respect. The man who would show no mercy to those who had crossed him and his family. The face that men gazed upon in terror before they died.

‘Enough,’ he said in a softer voice. ‘Enough, Tessa.’ 

He didn’t look backwards as he left me alone with my horse and a broken heart.


	23. Arrow House

In the days that followed, I coped with my grief as best I could, by throwing myself into nurturing my horses. I kept busy and positive in the day and outwardly I hoped that no one could tell that I ached for Mister Thomas Shelby with every part of my being. The estate was still celebrating Thorne’s win in the Guineas so I was able to hide my feelings in the excitement of having a Classic winning racehorse on the stud. Success brought attention. Friends, family and well-wishers from the village descended onto the estate, all eager to congratulate us and pat the great Arrathorne Lad. 

Only at night when the longing overcame me, did I allow myself to think about Tommy. My once a night treat. To dream of his voice, his touch, his kiss and his aura. I wasn’t so much angry at his rejection, but frustrated. I was sad for him too because he had shown a vulnerability that I never knew existed. He had opened up to me but still pushed me away. No one else, apart from perhaps his Aunt Polly, could ever imagine this man, this leader, this soldier, this gangster was protecting his own fragile heart from shattering. 

Rumours circulated that Lord Flanagan had sailed to the Americas to start a new life to escape his debts. Of course, I knew better. Tommy’s propaganda machine aided by his allies in power must have set that idea in motion. I thought of Lord Flanagan’s mother, a noble lady who lived alone in Mayfair. I hoped that somehow, she would believe the talk that was floating through London society that her only son had departed these shores, very much alive. Tommy’s words haunted me, “could you look a widow or a mother in the eye knowing that the man you love is responsible for their grief?” 

There it was. An ice-cold weight of dread settled on my soul like a lump of something unpleasant dredged from a dark pond. Lord Flanagan had his own evil intentions and greatly underestimated his enemy, but I still felt the enormity of his demise. That it was partly my fault that a man had died. I did not want to predict how many dead men pressed on Tommy’s soul. It must be a crushing, suffocating load that eats away at one. I wished I could talk to him about it. He would understand. But that was not to be, resolved as I was to never seek him out again. I suffered in silence. 

In defiance of Tommy’s assumption that I would quietly stay put on the estate, I accepted every invitation sent to me. Refusing to pine away. I frequented balls, lunches and dinners in London. I organised charity events in the village and on the estate, welcoming the great and good of society. It was an exhausting distraction that I welcomed. 

Improving the stud was my main focus and included in that was training Thorne, who would be aimed at the Derby next. With the winnings from the Guineas race, I was able to purchase more horses and spent a lot of time travelling to bloodstock sales with a view to building up a team of racehorses to carry on the stud’s winning ways. Often, Granville or my father would accompany me but sometimes I would venture out on my own. The time in Avecote had made me more independent than ever. 

Tha’s an hoss worth looking at in Warwickshire, lass,’ said Granville one morning. 

‘Warwickshire?’ I said furrowing my brow. That place was a bit too close for comfort to Birmingham for my liking.

‘Aye, Warwickshire. A fine filly yearling, my friend on that estate tells me. His master will sell for the right price of course.’

‘Hmm, I’m not sure, Granville. It’s a bit too far north to travel.’ I heard the lie in my own voice but I did not want to be tempted to pop across to Birmingham or God forbid, bump into Tommy or any of the Peaky Blinders in that part of the Black country.

‘Well, that’s a shame,’ said Granville as he fixed up his pipe, while resting his elbows on Thorne’s stable door.

‘Why’s that?’ I asked. 

‘Well, the filly is Arrathorne Lad’s full sister. Good blood to have on the stud. Race her then breed from her. In a few years, you might have a foundation mare.’

Oh, hell I thought. I’d have to go. 

‘Will you come with?’ I asked Granville.

‘Er, no lass. I’m needed here as the grey mare is due to foal any day now.’

‘But surely, one of the more experienced stable hands could assist?’

‘Huh,’ he grunted. ‘Over my dead body or the mare’s if it were left to them young ‘uns.’ 

I swore that the old bugger had a twinkle in his eye as he limped off to smoke his pipe away from the hay. 

So, travel alone to Warwickshire I did. I’d also bought a car since Newmarket with some of my winnings and shockingly learned how to drive it. I packed for two nights away, in case I grew tired of the road and needed to stop at a hotel, setting off on a gorgeous July morning. 

Arrow House was my destination. I’d not heard of the estate before nor its owner, who Granville had told me was a well to do American who rarely used the house. Apparently, he preferred London and would not even be here today to show me the filly. Instead, I was to meet the stable manager, Mister Smith. Having been on the road for nearly three hours, I stopped in a layby to check my map. Surely, I must be close by now. Half a mile ahead of me, I spied an encampment of Gypsies in a field on the right-hand side. I drove toward them and wound down my window. 

‘Hello there,’ I called. A few children scampered to the hedge and peered over it at me, agog. ‘I’m looking for Arrow House. Do you know the way?’

‘Cost ya a shillin,’ said a boy of about nine.

‘Of course,’ I smiled, more familiar with the ways of his kin than he would have imagined ‘Come, come.’ The boy scrambled over the hedge and I handed over two shillings instead of one. 

He pointed across the road, where a track led off. ‘If you want a shortcut. You drive down there, about five minutes and you’ll end up at Arrow House.’

‘Thank you, young sir,’ I said and followed his direction. 

The boy was right about the shortcut, although I don’t think he considered the appropriateness of the terrain for a motor car when directing me. I drove slowly through a dusty lane, the car rocking and rolling from side to side on the deep ruts made from sun hardened mud, then turned right onto a flatter road which was newly gravelled. From there, it was a straight run-up to a fine set of open wrought iron gates, twelve feet high and just as wide. Each side of the road was finely tended formal gardens with structural trees and bushes, clipped into wonderful shapes that drew the eye. 

I passed a small, sweet-looking chapel and beyond it, rising majestically above was a huge stately home built of red and black brick, set in decorative diaper patterns. It stood four-square, proud, and imposing with its large chimneys. I pulled through two stone pillars and circled towards the grand doorway, passing a flower bed which was adorned by a curious sundial in its centre, a statue of a kneeling American Indian holding the sundial on his head. A nod to its American owner perhaps. Gratefully, I parked the car and eased my travel-weary body out of it to ring the bell which was answered by an immaculately turned out housekeeper. 

‘Lady Elliot, I presume,’ she said, smiling. ‘Welcome to Arrow House. My name is Francis. I trust you had a pleasant journey. Please come in and refresh yourself before you visit the stables. I’ve prepared some tea in the library.’ 

‘Thank you,’ I said, grateful for the opportunity to rest after my travel.

The heavy wooden double doors swung open and I stepped into a grand entrance hall. It certainly was a handsome house with a magnificent staircase. Oil paintings depicting hunting and racing scenes hung on dark green walls and huge vases of flowers added pops of colour and fragrance. I followed Francis into a library where tea-things were set out. At the far end of the room was a large desk bedecked with bronze eagle ink wells and lion paperweights which spoke of its owner’s power. The scent of cologne and tobacco hung in the air which winded me with its familiarity. Francis poured the tea. 

‘I was told that your Master is away in London?’ I said regaining my composure and taking the cup that she offered to me. The room felt recently used so I was keen to understand if this was the case.

‘He has returned early, your ladyship. He is out riding presently, but I am sure he will make an appearance at some point.’ Francis did not quite meet my eyes as she spoke. ‘I’ll go and make the stable manager aware of your arrival.’

Fifteen minutes later I was touring the Clock House stable yard, escorted by Billy Smith who claimed to know Granville. He showed me the Ride, which was a covered barn where horses could be exercised out of the rain and bad weather and introduced me to some of the master’s hunters, including a particularly fine chestnut mare who was already tacked up. She had four long white socks and a broad white blaze on her face.

‘The filly you came to see is turned out in a paddock on the edge of the estate, your ladyship. I thought we could ride over there and lead her back,’ said Billy. ‘I took the liberty of tacking Splash here up for you.’ 

A ride would blow the cobwebs of my journey away and the horse looked a grand mare. I loved the challenge of riding a new horse and working out its character. ‘That would be pleasant,’ I asked. ‘What’s the origin of her name?

‘Ah, that’s because she looks like white paint has been splashed over her face,’ said Billy. 

I stroked the mare’s nose. ‘I suppose she does,’ I laughed and led her out of her stable. 

My escort, Billy mounted a skewbald cob with a long mane and strong feathered legs. 

‘Unusual to have a Gypsy Cob on a thoroughbred stud,’ I remarked.  
‘They are a useful sort to have around. Genuine and strong,’ he replied. ‘Plus, the master has a fondness for them.’ 

I felt a pang for Romany, who I missed greatly and expressed my agreement with the sense of Billy’s master. ‘The housekeeper tells me that, your master is returned and out riding. Am I to meet him at some point?’ I was more and more intrigued by my missing host. 

‘I expect so, your ladyship,’ said Billy.

‘Please, call me, Tessa,’ I insisted. Nine months dealing with folks of all sorts had given me a different perspective on hierarchy. 

Splash was eager to be off, so I sat quietly as she tip-tupped her hooves impatiently and made soothing noises with my voice to settle her. We followed a track upward from the stable yard which led to an expanse of manicured gallops, that went on for at least a straight mile. 

‘Would you like to canter?’ asked Billy. 

‘Yes, let’s,’ I agreed and with just the subtlest of leg aids, a mere squeeze of my calves on her belly, the mare shot off. I laughed with sheer joy at her responsiveness. It had been some long weeks since I felt any sense of exhilaration. Not since I last encountered Tommy, at Newmarket so to know that I could still feel a moment of something like happiness was a welcome relief. 

The Gypsy cob was no match for Splash’s long stride and we soon extended our lead to twelve lengths, reaching the end of the gallop in no time. The thunder of the cob’s heavy hooves pounded the turf in pursuit. I gave Splash, great big pats on her sleek neck, slowed her to a trot, then a walk at the top of the field and waited for Billy to catch us up. 

As I admired the view of neat grazing paddocks below, I spotted a rider galloping up the straight towards us on a big, black horse. The horse was clearly a stallion, I could tell that from the power in its arched neck. Jet black and glossy in the afternoon sun, his long flowing mane and tail unfurling like a battle flag was a beautiful sight. 

It was the rider though, who made me catch my breath. The easy and natural way he lounged in the saddle, using the lightness of his seat rather than brute force to keep the stallion under control was etched in my dreams. As he drew closer, I recognised the navy peaked cap, pulled low to shroud his eyes, a flash of silver glinting in his crown. His horse gave a half rear as he drew up alongside us. 

‘Alright, Tessa,’ he said simply.

‘Tommy,’ I breathed in wonderment. 

‘I’ll take over from here, Billy,’ said Tommy. 

‘Yes, Mister Shelby, sir,’ said Billy. He flashed me a grin and tipped the brim of his hat. ‘Have a good day, your ladyship.’


	24. Gift

‘Shall we ride on?’ said Tommy. My mare was squealing coquettishly at his stallion and I hoped I would be able to keep my own intense rush of blood hidden better than she. I scolded her with my voice and used my leg to move her sideways away from the pair. 

I nodded. ‘Nice horse,’ I told him for want of something to say until Billy was out of earshot. 

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Picked him up at Appleby Horse Fair.’ How comforting that after weeks of absolute despair and longing, and here were talking horses as if we’d never been apart. 

‘For how much?’ I asked. 

‘For a favour,’ he said with a wink. 

‘Mighty expensive favour someone owed you,’ I told him. ‘I’m glad nothing has changed.’

He was quiet for a few seconds then gave me a small smile. ‘I’m glad, you are glad,’ he said. 

‘Truly?’ I asked. 

I took his smile as confirmation. 

‘So, am I to assume that the elusive American owner of this estate is fictional?’ 

‘Not entirely fictional. He did own the estate until about a month ago.’ 

‘Really? You bought it from him, then?’ 

Tommy cleared his throat. ‘Acquired, rather than bought is a better description.’ 

‘Let me guess. The gentleman frequented your establishments and ran up a huge debt that he could not repay?’ 

‘Always knew you had a head for business, Tessa. He had no cash, but I took pity on him and accepted the estate in lieu. 

‘Do I hear Tommy Shelby going soft?’ I teased.

His face became serious. ‘Soft? It was his house or his life. Are you still glad to find the same ruthless bastard that takes what he wants?’

‘You take only what you need, Tommy. My feelings are unchanged. You are an extreme example of what a working man can achieve.’

He did not argue with me this time and we rode on in silence, side by side as the track we descended a grassy bank that led to the close-cropped paddocks below. The fences were painted white and I wondered how much money the poor American had owed to Tommy as the estate was absolutely beautiful and well kept. Three of the four fields had a mare and foal at foot, all thoroughbreds and enjoying the lush grass and gorgeous sunshine. 

‘Do you approve of the place?’ he said. The look on his face was hopeful. He clearly wanted me to like his new property. 

‘I think it’s a fine country seat and the equestrian facilities are exceptional. That straight mile gallop is worth its weight in gold. Imagine the string of racehorses you can train here.’

‘So, it’s grand enough for a lady?’ He reined in his mount, staring at me speculatively and I also checked Splash and asked her to halt. 

‘It’s fit for a king, sir.’ I wondered what he meant by his question. ‘Why did you engineer this meeting, Tommy?’ I added softly. ‘Is there something you wish to say to me?’ 

He sighed deeply and stroked the stallion’s mane. ‘I miss you, Tessa. There’s not been a day when I haven’t thought about you.’

‘I miss you too. So much.’ My heart leapt at his admission. 

‘I wanted to apologise for the way I treated you at Newmarket. It wasn’t right to push you away like that.’

‘I thought Tommy Shelby never apologises?’ I said slyly.

He let out a small laugh at my teasing. ‘A few days after we parted, I was in a gunfight with a rival gang leader. I stood face to face with my nemesis, and as I stared at the gun pointing at my head, I suddenly thought about you and that if I were dead, I’d not be able to protect you anymore. I’d never know if you were alright. I’d never see you again, and that scared me more than the prospect of dying.’

‘Oh, Tommy,’ I said and remembered what he had said about enemies always coming for him. ‘You defeated him then?’

He inclined his head in confirmation but gave no more details. ‘So, I sent Arthur and John down to Hertfordshire to see that old stable hand of yours. What’s his name? Granville, eh?’

‘Yes. Arthur and John? I hope they were nice to him,’ I said. ‘He’s eighty-odd!’ 

‘No persuasion needed. He agreed to encourage you to come and look at the filly. They ended up drinking whiskey in his loft room above the stables. Wouldn’t take any money either. Good man.’ 

‘I had a feeling he was up to something.’ 

‘He’s fond of you. Told my brothers that he watched you grow up and looks upon you as a granddaughter.’ 

‘He’s a good man and a treasure too,’ I agreed. ‘So, does the filly exist? Or was she just a ruse to bring me to Warwickshire?’ 

Tommy took one hand off his leather reins and gestured to the paddocks. ‘She’s real alright. See the black filly in the far paddock? There she is. Arrathorne Lad’s full sister. Would you like to take a closer look?’

I could not resist so we dismounted and tethered our horses to a rail, keeping the stallion away from my mare and entered the field where the filly was grazing contentedly.

‘She certainly has his build,’ I said. ‘Strong quarters, lots of power in the shoulder, has the look of a sprinter, I’d say. How much do you want for her?’

‘That’s the problem.’ Tommy folded his arms and grimaced. ‘Changed my mind about selling this one.’

‘Tommy,’ I cried. ‘Seriously? Surely, we can work out a deal. How about I promise you Arrathorne Lad’s first foal in addition to whatever you want for her?’ 

‘Tempting, but not possible,’ he said. 

‘Okay,’ I said wracking my brain for something that might persuade the gypsy in him. ‘We could spin a coin?’

He really did laugh at that. ‘The thing is, Tessa, I’m giving her away as a wedding gift.’ 

‘A wedding gift? I demanded. To who?’ 

I knew that horses were often used as a dowry payment in gypsy lore and as head of his family, Tommy must need to generously hand out whenever one of his female relations tied the knot. He had moved closer to me as I assessed the filly and I turned to face him in my outrage. 

‘To you, sweetheart. I’m giving her to you.’

‘But…I’m not getting married…ever,’ I said bewilderedly. ‘I told you that at Newmarket, remember?’ 

Tommy took a deep breath. ‘Not even to me?’ That same expression of hopefulness was in his gorgeous blue eyes and I was struck dumb by what he had just said. 

‘To you? Are you asking me to marry you, Tommy Shelby?’ My heart was now thudding so fast in my chest it felt like it could almost burst with joy. 

He reached into his pocket and produced a small black box, lined with velvet which he flicked open. Inside was a huge, sparkling cushion cut diamond ring, set in platinum, and surrounded by a halo of smaller old mine diamonds. He took my left hand and dropped down to one knee. 

‘Tessa, I love you. Our time apart has taught me that there is no point in living this life without you. You once said that you wanted to be at my side. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me and help me as my equal, will you please do me the honour of becoming my wife?’ 

I forgave him the moment that he galloped back into my life on his black stallion. ‘Yes, Tommy. Yes, of course, I will. I love you so much.’ 

In an instant, the ring was on my finger and we were entwined. Tommy kissed the tears of joy from my eyes then delved luxuriously into my mouth. Oh, how I had missed him and his kisses. 

We lay on the grass a while in the gentle sunshine with the sound of horses cropping the grass around us, talking, laughing, and kissing.

‘Did you procure this estate because of me, Tommy?’ I asked.

He lit a cigarette and unhurriedly blew out a plume of smoke. ‘Well, there’s no way I was going to ask you to live above the gambling den on Watery Lane.’ 

‘I wouldn’t mind,’ I said truthfully. ‘I want to be wherever you need to be and if that’s in Small Heath or Timbuktu, that’s fine with me.’ 

Tommy was propped up on one elbow shaking his head at me in mirth. ‘Well, I mind. I want the best for you and Watery Lane is no place for a lady.’

I picked a buttercup, watching the glossy petals reflecting the sunshine as I spun it between my fingers and breathed in the sweet summer air. ‘It is idyllic here, wonderful for the horses and no factory furnaces, but I like the gambling den. It’s exciting.’

‘Life as my wife will not be dull, Tessa. I never look backward. Bookmaking will still be part of the business, but I need to expand and keep striding forward. This estate will be a fresh start for both of us.’ 

‘I’d like to visit often, not least to see, Esme.’ 

‘As you wish,’ he agreed. 

‘What about your family. Do they know about us?’ 

‘Yes, I asked Polly for advice. She told me to make you an honest woman. John, Esme, and Arthur all adore you already. Finn’s still a child. Ada’s in London, but I will phone her tonight. You’ll attend family meetings from now on.’

‘Family meetings?’ I said. 

‘Where we discuss business. Of all kinds.’ 

I understood what he meant. ‘I see. It will be an honour to join your family.’ 

‘When do you want to get married?’ Tommy asked. ‘Will you want a big wedding in London? All the toffs there at some fancy church and an announcement in the Times?’ 

I thought for a moment and shook my head. ‘Can’t we get married now? Today?’ 

‘Today?’ Tommy laughed. ‘Why? Do you think you’ll change your mind?’ 

‘No, but I don’t want to wait a moment longer. I saw a chapel near the entrance to the estate. Is it connected to the house?’ 

‘Yes, I own it. We own it, I mean. What is mine will become yours.’

‘Then could we not have a blessing there? I know you do not worship God, but it would be lovely to be married in the place that we are to live.’ 

I had thought long and hard about marriage with Tommy over the months that I had known him and daydreamed about us standing together at the altar. I was not deeply religious but had been brought up in a society that worshipped God. Tommy though had experienced the horrors of war where God did not protect the vulnerable and did not halt the relentless abyss of pain that he and his comrades had endured, so to ask him to vow to love me in the sight of God seemed pointless. 

‘Instead of a vicar or a priest, can we have a Gypsy wedding?’ 

Tommy’s beautiful mouth momentarily dropped open. ‘Tessa, you do know what that will involve? Our palms will be cut with a blade and our blood will mingle.’ 

Esme had told me all about her wedding to John, so I understood what the ceremony required. ‘I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect and truly become joined as one within the traditions and customs that you and your family respect. A marriage in sight of God only would not be right for you.’ 

He gently took my face in his hands. ‘Tessa, when I think that my love for you could not become stronger, you surprise me always. Fuck it, let’s have two weddings. One in the gypsy camp tonight and one in the chapel on Saturday. You’ll need a wedding dress.’ 

‘I’d happily marry you in my jodhpurs,’ I laughed. 

‘I’ll take you to the Rackhams Department Store in Birmingham later.’ 

‘They’ll be closed, Tommy. It must be nearly four o’clock already.’ 

Tommy looked at his gold pocket watch. ‘The store will open for me, or it won’t open again.’ 

I knew he meant what he said. I was used to a privileged lifestyle, but Tommy’s power could open both literal and figurative doors that were closed for ordinary folk. 

‘What about your parents?’ he added.

‘I doubt you were intending to ask my father’s permission?’

Something like a smirk appeared on his face. ‘As it happens. I did. As befits a gentleman.’ 

‘You did?’ 

It was my turn for my mouth to drop open. I pictured the scene. Tommy arriving in his silver Bentley on the carriage drive before the great door. His stony-faced men standing by their cars like an intimidating guard of honour as their boss strode into my father’s house past the nervous servants, demanding an audience with their master. 

‘When?’

‘You were in London with your mother last week. Granville has been very accommodating with information to ensure your future happiness. I would not wish to cause you unnecessary distress, so for your sake, I practiced…restraint.’

‘I thank you for that, Tommy. He has been foolish and made a mistake, but he is still my father, nevertheless. I assume that he did not dare refuse you?’

Tommy cleared his throat. ‘He readily agreed to our union and was left in no doubt that any further problems he may cause you would not be tolerated.’ 

My life was with Tommy now and my parents would need to accept that. Their future would be secured by my alliance in a far stronger way than they had intended with Lord Flanagan.

‘I’ll send a car to collect them,’ said Tommy. They can come to the chapel on Saturday, but I want you all to myself tonight.' He winked at me. 'Gypsy weddings are wild.’


	25. Wedding Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there - I hope you are all keeping safe and well. What a strange time we are living in! Apologies for the sporadic updates. Here is the final chapter of King. I've enjoyed writing this story so much and loved all your kind comments and kudos. Your feedback blew me away and it has been a pleasure joining this community of great writers and fans of Peaky Blinders. 
> 
> I've been writing a short Tommy x Maid fic set in a snowstorm which I will post nearer to Christmas. I also plan to finish my other PB fic Wager and perhaps continue with the other one Business as I have some ideas about that too. 
> 
> In the meantime, as Mr Murphy says, 'mind yourself' and stay safe 'by order of the Peaky Blinders' - sorry - could not help myself. :) x

From the window of the master bedroom, I could see that the estate was a hive of activity. Tommy had rallied his troops like the Sergeant Major he once was and preparations for our wedding that evening were almost complete. His family had been summoned and he had put them all to work in various ways. John and Arthur were ferrying liquor from the Garrison. Men from the Gypsy camp had been sent out to hunt rabbit, wild boar, and deer. Polly and Esme were attending to my dress with a bottle of champagne. 

Polly set the intricate lace veil on my head. ‘Are you ready?’ she asked. ‘The carriage is outside, and Tommy is waiting for you at the altar.’

I nodded. ‘I’m ready, Polly. Truly, I am.’ 

Polly pursed her lips. ‘It’s not going to be easy, you know, being married to Tommy.’

‘I know. I’ve learned that over the past year,’ I said. ‘Yet, despite all the trouble we’ve gone through, he is the best man I’ve ever known.’

‘You really do love him, don’t you?’ Polly said. ‘Even though he does, what he does.’

‘Even though he does, what he does,’ I repeated in agreement. ‘I’ll support him, Polly. I’m not here to change him into some romantic toned-down version of himself. I understand fully what I am facing when I join your family.’ 

‘Tessa will be good for Tommy, Polly,’ Esme piped up. ‘She’s one of us now.’

I smiled gratefully at my friend and looked to Polly for approval. ‘I know we are from different worlds. I’ll marry Tommy with or without your blessing, but I know how much he loves and respects you, so I should like to have it all the same.’ 

It seemed that Polly was determined to make me wait. She looked from me to Esme, took a sip of champagne, and dragged from her elegant cigarette holder. ‘Then I suppose all that’s left to say is…welcome to the family.’ 

‘Thank you, Polly,’ I said and pulled her in for a hug. 

‘Ooh, come here,’ called Esme and enveloped us with her arms too.

‘Get off, girls,’ complained Polly, shrugging us both away, though eyes were smiling. ‘Come on. Let’s make Tommy an honest man…for the first time in his life.’ 

Outside the great doors of Arrow House, the skewbald, gypsy cob stood like a rock in the summer dusk, hitched up to an open carriage bedecked with flowers and fragrant herbs. A young gypsy boy sat in the driver’s seat and one of Tommy’s men opened the door and handed the three of us ladies in. I carefully arranged my light silk dress so it would stay pristine on the short journey to where the gypsies were camped. It was a luxurious floor-length sheath in a rich cream colour, with beading at the bust. Polly covered my face with the lace veil and the gypsy boy clicked his tongue and we were off. 

As we rolled through the estate toward the fires and heady scent of woodsmoke, the sound of laughter and music drew nearer. The summer sun was half-hidden, disappearing on the horizon, its shafts of golden light would soon be replaced by the pale moon but for now it strove to remain with me, at least until my destination was reached. 

The encampment buzzed with anticipated merriness. As we pulled to a stop inside the edge of the field, I spotted a gilded carousel that one would find at a travelling fair in full gallop, its cheerful music piping out while children shrieked with delight as they mounted the wooden painted steeds. Joyful dogs yapped and chased each other, sensing that this evening was one of amusement. Groups of people gathered here and there all dressed in their finest. At the sight of my arrival, they all cheered and moved towards the centre of the field where an altar carved out of an ancient tree, rose up garlanded with wildflowers. 

‘Sweet Peas for bliss, fragrant Stocks for a happy life, white Heather for protection and white Chrysanthemum for truth and loyal love,’ whispered Esme as we approached. 

My pathway to the altar was lit by countless candles that flickered gently in the soft warm breeze and between them lay hundreds of rose petals and sprigs of purple heather. With no father to give me away, I was accompanied only by Esme and Polly who followed behind, smiling and greeting well-wishers. This bright colourful world excited all my senses and I was ready to join it. 

There, standing before the floral archway, waiting quietly at ease amongst the festivity was the man I could not wait to spend the rest of my life with. Even the few short hours we had separated since we returned from purchasing our wedding clothes were a trial for me. I had longed for him even as I readied myself for our union and was reluctant to part us ever again. Handsome in a suit of working-class tweed, cut to compliment his athletic figure, I drew up alongside him, and the congregation hushed to a respectful murmur. 

Tommy turned to me and smiled, lifting the veil away then taking my hand and placing a gentle kiss there. ‘How fortunate am I to have such a brave and beautiful bride,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you for this day. I love you.’

‘And I love you,’ I whispered back. 

The service itself was conducted by a Gypsy Elder, a rotund gentleman resplendent in ceremonial dress and a flamboyant countenance. The tense moment when he asked the congregation in his booming voice if anyone here present had cause to object to us joining together was broken by the folk gathered around, who shouted out a joyful no in response, rather than the usual silent confirmation that normally followed the same question when asked in a church. After this boisterous interlude, the exchange of vows was simple and heartfelt. We readily assented to his verbal commands by confirming ‘I do,’ to each other in pure happiness.

The Elder took a blade and held it aloft for all to see. ‘Now we come to the mingling of the blood.’ I steeled myself for pain and looked to Tommy for comfort as the Elder swept the sharp knife across first mine, then my bridegroom’s palm. The cut was not deep and before I had time to feel any sting, Tommy was pressing his warm palm onto mine, stemming any flow and the Elder was binding our hands together with a silken rope. Tommy mouthed, ‘are you okay,’ to me and I nodded. Though the act was outwardly brutal, I welcomed its heavy significance which anchored the vows we had made to each other. We were now truly bound together forever. 

‘Well then,’ said the Elder, beaming. ‘You may kiss the bride.’

A deafening cheer rang out as our lips met for the first time as husband and wife and congratulations rained upon us. Arm in arm, we joined the throng of well-wishers as confetti cascaded through the air like a colourful snowstorm. Waiting for us to parade around the encampment was Tommy’s mighty grey stallion, his dappled coat as glossy as a painted rocking horse in a child’s nursery. 

‘Tradition deems that we ride away together,’ explained Tommy. He took the reins from a boy holding them and sprang up lightly onto the horse’s back before assisting me to do the same, wrapping his arms around me and placing me in front of him. A huge cheer rang out as we jig-jogged our way through the crowd. 

‘I’m glad that the horse is part of our wedding because if I had not seen him on my first day in Birmingham, we may never have met.’ 

‘I meant to ask,’ said Tommy. ‘Now that we are married, does it make me a Lord?’ I could tell that he was not serious from the playful look on his face. 

I laughed. ‘No, I’m afraid it does not work like that but anyway, I do not need to be a Lady as you are already a King in my eyes and to these people.’ 

He buried his head in my neck, kissing me softly there then smiled. ‘Good. Then by my side, that makes you my Queen.’ 

The End


End file.
